While You Tell Me Stories
by DawnieS
Summary: Slightly AU. As their final year at Hogwarts ends and they are forced out of school, James and Lily find that the real world presents challenges they hadn't been expecting and problems they don't know how to overcome.
1. You Can't Hide Behind Social Graces

While You Tell Me Stories

A/N: This story operates under the assumption that it was the war that forced James to really mature and grow up and that forced Lily to stop being quite so temperamental and judgmental towards others. So what if there hadn't been a war? What if there was still prejudice and power and blood purity, but no Voldermort? What would it take for the two of them to come together then?

Chapter titles are from the wonderful song _As Is_ by Ani DiFranco.

Summary: Slightly AU. In a world ruled by blood and money, James Potter has never once been denied anything he wanted, except Lily Evans. With neither blood status nor money, Lily can only rely on her vibrant personality to force others to see her worth. As their final year at Hogwarts ends and they are forced out of school, both find that the real world presents challenges that hadn't been expecting and problems they don't know how to overcome.

* * *

><p>Chapter One: You Can't Hide Behind Social Graces<p>

James Potter was taunting Severus Snape again, and Lily didn't want to care.

Two years ago, she would have come to Severus' defense. Two years ago, she _did_ come to Severus' defense, for all the good that had done. But that single word – Mudblood – had forever shattered an already strained relationship, and as Lily watched the entire scene unfolding before her now, she didn't want to care.

Severus had chosen his path. It didn't include her. He had his own friends now. Mulcibur, Avery, Nott… and that slick Lucius Malfoy he seemed to practically idolize. Granted, Malfoy had left Hogwarts already and wasn't around to come to Severus' defense, but the others were…

He had his friends. She wasn't one of them. This wasn't her problem. She didn't care.

But…

But, Merlin, she did care.

James was an arrogant prat. He and Sirius both had their wands drawn and were standing there, laughing cruelly as Severus struggled against the invisible binds that seemed to hold him in place. The Slytherin's wand lay on the grass a few feet away from him.

Peter was standing behind his two friends, his face filled with amusement and glee. Only Remus seemed at all disturbed by what was happening, and he still wasn't doing anything about it. He looked for all the world as though he desperately wanted to be somewhere else.

Lily drew a breath and strode forward.

They were by the lake again, relaxing after the latest NEWTS exam, and the similarities to the incident at the end of her fifth year were all too obvious.

She had a sinking feeling it was going to play out the exact same way that had.

She squared her shoulders. "Leave him alone, Potter," she said. She didn't raise her voice, didn't yell, but her tone was cold enough to convey the threat and her hand slid into her pocket and wrapped around her wand.

James turned towards her. "Evans," he said politely, nodding his head in her direction before giving her a cocky grin. "Snivellus and I were just having a little chat."

"Let. Him. Go," Lily said again, enunciating each word. Sunlight streamed down on all of them, and the air was warm and filled with the scent of lavender and lilacs and fresh water. They had an audience – James always had an audience and it made her sick to think about it – and she wanted nothing more than for all of this to end.

She was so tired of it.

"Or you'll what, Head Girl?" Sirius said with a bark of laughter. "Dock House points? Give us detention? Make us write lines?"

There was a murmur of answer laughter from the crowd that had gathered.

"Go out with me," James said abruptly. "Come on, Evans. One date. We're almost done with Hogwarts and then…"

"And then, thankfully, I will never have to see you again," Lily spat. "Let him go, Potter." And she drew her wand and pointed it directly at his chest, a number of jinxes running through her mind.

Potter eyed the wand warily. Lily knew that he had learned long ago never to underestimate her abilities. He could probably beat her in a duel, particularly if he had Black to help him, but she would still get in a few good spells before it ended.

And he would be the one to get in trouble. After all, what professor would actually believe that any of it was her fault?

She pressed her lips into a thin line. It wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. What had she done to deserve the constant attention of a boy she hated?

"Why do you care?" James retaliated. "Why do you defend him? You _know_ what he thinks of you and other Muggleborns."

Lily flinched, and wondered if James had any idea just how much that hurt. Of course she knew what Severus thought of Muggleborns, even if he had tried to tell her on more than one occasion that she was different, that she was special. But did James really have to bring it up? Did he have to rub it in her face, force her to remember a friendship she couldn't save?

"I don't need her help," Severus snarled, apparently finding his voice for the first time since her appearance. "I don't need _anything_ from her."

Lily inhaled sharply. It wasn't a surprise that Severus would say something like that. How could it be a surprise when he had done it before?

"He's nothing but a slimy Slytherin who plays with the Dark Arts and thinks all Muggles and Muggleborns are nothing more than trash. Scum," James continued fiercely. "Why can't you see that Evans? Why are you so damn…"

"And where is your Gryffindor bravery?" Lily shot back. "Three on one?" She gestured to Sirius and Peter before shaking her head in disgust. "Is this your idea of brave? Of a fair fight? You're _pathetic_. It's a wonder the Sorting Hat actually put you in Gryffindor at all…"

James moved his wand away from Severus and pointed it directly at Lily, fury in his eyes. "How dare you?" he snarled, and she took a step back, surprised by the vehemence of his reaction.

It was the first time she had ever accused him of not belonging in Gryffindor, and she knew even as she said the words that it was a low blow, but she hadn't expected this particular response from him. He was furious, and that fury was directed completely at her.

Unfortunately, turning his attention to her fully meant that Severus finally had an opportunity to break free, and he jumped on it immediately. Lily just barely registered the movement, and then Severus had his wand in his hand again, and there was a flash of red light. The spell hit Sirius in the chest and he fell, collapsing onto the ground even as Peter shouted out a warning.

"Padfoot!" James cried, and raced to his best friend's side.

Severus was looming over the two of them, a look of pure malice in his black eyes. A word was forming on his lips – a Dark spell, no doubt – and Lily switched her own wand so that it was pointed at him.

"Leave," she said firmly.

"Lily…" he started, but Lily shook her head.

"Now," she said. "Leave now." She didn't want to know what he was thinking, didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. She just wanted this all to be over, and judging from the look on Severus' face, he had no intention of letting things go. If she allowed him to stick around, the fight would continue and possibly spin out of control.

Severus sneered at her, but, surprisingly, did as she asked. With one last contemptuous look at James and Sirius, he turned and strode away.

There was blood on Sirius' robes, although the wound didn't look to serious, and James was already pulling the other Gryffindor to his feet and moving towards the castle. "Come on, let's get you to Madam Pomfrey," he said under his breath before sparing a moment to send a look of complete loathing in Severus' direction.

James looked over at Lily, his mouth opening, but she turned away from him. There was nothing he could say that would interest her at the moment, so instead of sticking around to listen to him, she pushed her way through the crowd and walked down towards the lake.

The crowd was slowly dispersing, no longer interested now that the entertainment was over. Only a few stuck around, and one of them, a round-faced girl with light brown hair and gentle eyes, made her way towards Lily.

"Lily? Are you alright?"

Lily ran a hand through her hair and stared at the lake. "I hate this, Alice," she admitted in a whisper.

"Potter?" Alice asked.

"Yes. No. All of it. I hate…" She stopped, sighed. Hate probably wasn't the right word. She was just tired. She was tired of Potter's behavior, tired of his constant requests, tired of the way he would ruffle his hair and wink at her and expect her to swoon. She was tired of trying to figure out ways to get him to stop. She was tired of staring at Severus and wondering if there was anything she could have done to make him choose her instead of his other friends. If she had just tried harder, if she had really pushed him to realize that those other people were headed down the wrong path… would it have mattered? Would it have made a difference?

She was tired of all the what-ifs.

"You didn't have to stand up for him, you know," Alice said softly. "He's not your friend anymore. He made that very clear two years ago."

"I wasn't standing up for Snape," Lily said shortly. "I was standing up against Potter. It doesn't matter that it was Snape that he was taunting. It would have been wrong no matter who he went after."

* * *

><p>It was like talking to a wall. Only walls were probably more responsive.<p>

James wouldn't listen to a thing Remus said, and although that was not much of a surprise, it was still frustrating. Remus hated this feeling of helplessness, just as much as he hated watching James pine away over a girl he had no hope of winning. He knew that James' feelings were real, and he knew that if James could only stop hexing people and actually _listen_ to what Lily was saying for a few minutes, he might have a chance of convincing her that this wasn't just a game to him.

But James wouldn't even listen to Remus, so he certainly wasn't going to suddenly start listening to Lily.

Even so, Remus found himself attempting to give the unwanted advice. "This isn't the way to get her attention, Prongs. You _know_ that."

"I don't get why she has to be such a stubborn, stuck-up…"

"Stuck-up?" Remus cut in, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. That was one adjective he had not been expecting.

"It's just for laughs," James growled under his breath. "She hates all of the pranks but she doesn't even… ugh. Does she have _no_ sense of humor?"

"Maybe she doesn't find tormenting Snape to be funny," Remus suggested softly. "They _were_ friends, you know."

"Yes, and see how well that turned out," James hissed. "He chose his other friends. He chose those bloody pureblood elitist Slytherins over her. He treats her like she's less than him, less than all of them. He's so wrapped up in Dark Arts he can't even see that she's out of his league."

Remus rolled his eyes but didn't answer. He had seen the looks Snape threw in Lily's direction when he knew that her attention was elsewhere, and he was fairly certain that the Slytherin _did_ know that Lily wasn't beneath him.

But he really wasn't here to analyze Snape's thoughts of feelings.

"I just don't get why she won't give me a chance," James muttered, slumping over onto his bed.

"Maybe if you stopped hexing people…"

"I don't hex _people_," James snapped. "I don't walk around indiscriminately targeting anyone who crosses my path. I only go after the ones I don't like, and there is always a good reason for me to not like them. It's not like Snape has never attacked me. The things he's done, the people he is friends with. It's not like…" He stopped and trailed off with an angry huff of impatience. "She is _such_ a temperamental know-it-all."

"But you love her," Remus said.

"I know," James wailed. "This is so messed up!"

"There is only a week left in school, mate, and then you might never see her again," Remus said reasonably. It wasn't where he had planned to go with this conversation, but if he couldn't convince James to change his behavior to win Lily over, then maybe he could at least point out that the torment would end soon enough. She would be out of his life, and he wouldn't have to continually see her and know that she hated him.

But instead of being comforting, the statement merely upset James further. His face darkened. "Then I only have one week to convince her to go out with me." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm James Potter. I should be able to do this."

"Well, when you ask her out, I think you should probably refrain from mentioning that," Remus suggested dryly. "She hasn't reacted positively to all the other times you've told her you're a Potter and you can get what you want."

"I _am_ a Potter, and Potters do get what they want," James said confidently.

Remus fell back against his mattress and stared at the curtains around his bed. He had pushed them aside so that he could have this talk with James, but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pull them shut and tune out the rest the world.

It was true; Potters did get what they wanted. His family was pureblooded and wealthy, and the name Potter carried prestige and weight. The entire world was open to him; unlimited options and opportunities for him to follow.

But it wasn't like that for everyone else.

It certainly wasn't like that for werewolves.

The school year was ending in less than a week and he would be tossed out into the real world. And the real world wasn't filled with understanding and sympathetic people like Dumbledore. The real world was filled with hate and bigotry and discrimination, and he was fairly certain he would soon find that he had no place in it.

James must have picked up on the gloomy silence that had fallen, and he correctly guessed the reason for it, because he was suddenly sitting on the edge of Remus' bed, a look of concern on his face.

"We're going to figure something out, Moony," he said firmly. "You, me, Padfoot, and Wormtail… we'll put our heads together and we'll come up with something for you. We'll fight this, and we'll fight all the people that try to tell you that you are less than them. You're _not_."

It was moments like this that made Remus feel even more frustrated by his friend's inability to win Lily's affections. James might appear arrogant or conceited to the redhead, but Remus had seen the other side of him. He had seen the fierce loyalty to his friends and the hatred for discrimination and bigotry based on blood and part- or non-human status. He had seen the determination to fight that discrimination, even against considerable odds and all the inherent expectations placed on because of his own blood status.

If only Lily could see it, too…

* * *

><p>"You have to come to the wedding. Mum <em>says<em>."

Sirius snorted. Did his brother actually think he was going to do _anything_ just because his mother said so? "And, of course, you're going to deliver the message for dear Mum like a good little boy?" he sneered.

Regulus glared furiously, his eyes going cold. "Narcissa is your cousin," he said.

Sirius shook his head. "She's no family of mind. Mum made it very clear I was no longer considered a Black when she went and blasted me off the tapestry. And even if Narcissa was still family, she certainly wouldn't be now that she's stupid enough to marry a Malfoy."

"Lucius comes from a good family," Regulus argued through clenched teeth. "It's a better match than you're going to make with whatever vermin you convince to go with you."

"Oh, is that why you're dating the Greengrass girl? To make a good match so Mummy will be pleased?"

"Leave Eliza out of this!"

Sirius threw his hands into the air in frustration. "Merlin, Reg, do you even listen to yourself? Our parents have turned you into a miniature version of themselves. Can't you just think on your own for once?"

"Is that what you think you're doing? Thinking on your own? Following Potter around like you're his little lapdog is not…"

"Shut up about James!"

Regulus smirked in triumph at Sirius' heated outburst. "Oh, did that get under your skin?"

Sirius was dimly aware of the crowd gathering in the corridor. When Regulus had approached him with the message from his mother, he had debated just walking away. But instead he had stayed to argue – although he still wasn't entirely sure why – and now his family problems would be aired for everything to see.

Again.

It actually bothered him now. It didn't used to, when he was younger. In his first several years at Hogwarts he took great pleasure in these public arguments – first with Narcissa and Bellatrix, and then later with Regulus – knowing that every word he said would eventually be reported to his parents. He had been determined then to show that he wasn't a Slytherin, that he wasn't like his family, that he was _better_.

But things were different now. He had managed to shut the door on most of his family, but he couldn't quite let go of Regulus. Every argument left him feeling helpless, and he was forced to watch as his brother drifted further and further away, becoming so entangled in his parents' prejudiced viewpoints that there was no real way to save him.

And being helpless made him angry.

He wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to force Regulus to understand that he had a choice, that it didn't have to be this way.

But Regulus clearly had his own priorities, and, oblivious to Sirius' inner turmoil, he said icily, "This is your last chance, Sirius. Mum's been generous enough as it is."

"Generous?" Sirius repeated, laughing bitterly. "Is that what she calls the Howlers? Is that what she calls blasting me off the tapestry and telling me I am no son of hers?"

"And how many times have you told her you aren't part of her family?" Regulus shot back.

Sirius shook his head. "I don't want this, Reg. This pureblood nonsense you keep spouting… it's utter hogwash. Maybe you're content to be Mum's good little boy, but I'm _not_. I'm going to actually think for myself."

"And spit on our family and centuries of tradition?" Regulus snarled, flushing with anger. "You selfish, self-centered prat. You have _no idea_ what you're doing to this family. You're destroying everything."

"I haven't destroyed a damn thing! And I certainly haven't destroyed anything that didn't already deserve to be broken."

"It's no wonder Mum is so ashamed of you…"

And, like all their conversations that started out with a heated exchange of words, this one eventually came to blows.

Sirius pulled his arm back and punched Regulus in the face. His brother stumbled backwards, one hand flying to his face where a bruise was sure to form and the other curling into a fist. He struck out without hesitation, landing a blow on his brother's chin. They were soon a tangle of limbs and fists, striking each other furiously, wands forgotten.

* * *

><p>"…and then he asks me out. <em>Again<em>. Thank Merlin we'll be out of Hogwarts soon and I'll never have to see him again," Lily said, finishing her story and slumping over on her bed. She was lying on her stomach, her chin resting on one hand, her elbow propped up against the mattress. Her red hair tumbled over her shoulders, her eyes flashed irately, and she knew that retelling this story had brought another flush of irritation to her cheeks.

"You're the only one who's this excited about facing the real world, Lily," Mary replied with a laugh from where she sat perched on the edge of her own bed, listening to Lily's explanation of the events by the lake.

"At least we won't have homework or tests," Alice pointed out logically. She was standing in the doorway to the dormitory, and Lily had a feeling she was attempting to inch out the door in order to escape another one of her Potter-is-an-arrogant-toerag rants.

"Yes, but we will have work and rent and all those other things people are supposed to do once they become mature adults," Mary replied, throwing a brief glance in Alice's direction.

"And yet a good half of the seventh-years here are anything but mature," Lily muttered under her breath.

"Well, we can't all be accepted into prestigious potions brewing programs," Mary replied.

Lily raised her eyebrows. "Why Mary McDonald, are you jealous?"

"Of the amount of work you will be doing this summer? Not in the slightest," Mary retorted with a laugh.

"Oh, but think how amazing it will be…" Lily started.

"Mary!" Alice interrupted, frowning crossly. "We had an agreement not to bring up this program. You _know_ how she'll go off about it for hours if you get her started."

Lily pretended to glare at her friends but didn't quite manage it. They had both been teasing her about how excited she was over this program for weeks now, and she had gotten used to the light-hearted banter.

And, of course, it was true that she was unbearably ecstatic about the program. It would start almost as soon as Hogwarts ended, which was disappointing as it meant that she wouldn't have much time to visit her parents. But she couldn't deny that she was looking forward to learning more about advanced healing potions.

"Yes, yes," Mary said quickly, "you're right. We don't really need to hear it all again, do we? Unless you think there is something that we forgot?"

"Hm… well, it is a three month program in which exceptionally gifted potions students are taught how to devise potions used for healing purposes. It combines theory and hands-on-practice, and is the first in a series of steps that will eventually lead to a very prestigious title of Master Medicinal Potioneer," Alice said.

"Right," Mary agreed. "And by the end of the first three months, each students is supposed to pick a medicinal potion that has been conceived of but not yet perfected and work on the basic theory behind it. Those who do well in the first three months are recommended to the next training course which lasts for six months and involves more in depth research. A few of those students – only the best of the best – are then selected for a fully funded two year apprenticeship under some of the most famous and accomplished modern potion Masters." She turned towards Lily, lips curled into a smile, "Are we forgetting anything?"

Lily laughed. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I don't mean to blabber on this much. I'm just… I'm just really excited."

"Yes," Mary deadpanned, "we've noticed." Then she shrugged and said, "I still prefer your speeches about potions to your rants against Potter, anyway."

"He is such a prat," Lily muttered.

"And you just had to bring up Potter," Alice muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at Mary.

"Oh, come on," Lily protested. "You both know he's a conceited git."

"I don't know, Lils…" Mary said hesitatingly. The teasing was gone from her voice, replaced instead with sympathy and compassion, a sign that she knew she was about to bring up painful memories for her friend. "I mean, maybe Snape did something. It's not like he's blameless in this rivalry."

"I know," Lily agreed bitterly. "I'm not saying _that_. I know he instigates a lot of the fights." She paused, wishing that she could somehow just get over the loss of her best friend, wishing that it didn't still hurt, two years later. Then she pushed away those thoughts and said, "But I also know that Potter and Black strut around here like the own the place, hexing anyone they want just for laughs. Maybe Snape did something to them and this was their revenge, but maybe they were just bored."

Mary didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue the point. And Lily didn't press her. She knew that Mary, as a Muggleborn, had often been the target of the Slytherins – Snape included – and was less willing to think anything nice of them.

After all, when the Slytherins hexed her, it was frequently Potter and Black that came to her defense, and Mary was grateful for that. Even if she and Lily both knew that Potter and Black's chivalrous gestures were really just excuses for them to fight with the Slytherins and pretend that their reasons for doing so were noble.

"James is a bit arrogant," Alice agreed finally, "I'll give you that."

"I suppose," Mary murmured dispassionately.

"You're just reluctant to admit that because you fancy them," Lily said teasingly.

Mary flushed and threw one of her pillows at Lily. "I don't fancy James or Sirius," she argued. But her voice was just a bit too high and her flush was just a bit too pink for her words to be believed.

Mary fancied pretty much everybody.

"Is it his soulful hazel eyes or his messy black hair?" Lily asked with a chuckle.

"I don't fancy James!"

"Sirius, then?" Alice asked, joining in. "He's got soulful eyes, too. Maybe you should ask him out, hm…? A little moonlight stroll, some Firewhisky… who knows what could happen?"

"This coming from the girl who fancied Frank Longbottom for ages before working up the nerve to talk to him," Mary shot back.

"Yes, but I did talk to him eventually," Alice replied. "That's why we're together now, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I seem to recall three years worth of listening to you go on and on about how wonderful and perfect he was before you had even managed to carry on a decent conversation with him," Mary retorted, laughing. "You'd start stammering every time you tried to talk to him."

"I was nervous!"

"She still goes on and on about how perfect Longbottom is," Lily pointed out, pushing herself to a sitting position. "I think it's actually gotten worse in the two years they've been dating."

"Yeah, but I hear Longbottom is just as bad," Mary replied. "Dearborn's cousin is in the Auror training program with Frank and says he won't stop talking about how Alice is sweet and lovely and perfect and wonderful and beautiful and kind and caring…"

"Really?" Alice asked breathlessly. "He says all of that?"

"Oh, Merlin…" Mary said softly. "Here we go."

"Isn't he just the sweetest, most considerate wizard ever?" Alice continued.

"Yes, yes, Longbottom is wonderful," Lily said quickly. "Caradoc says…"

"Oh, is it Caradoc, now?" Mary asked sharply, turning towards Lily in surprise. "You've called him Dearborn all year. Any dates, or perhaps broom closets and snogging, that I should know about?"

"Mary," Lily said patiently, "not every boy in this school wants to go out with me." She sniffed a bit, then added, "I didn't know him that well at the beginning of the year. But he _is_ Head Boy and I _am_ Head Girl, and we got to know each other better since we had to work together. We decided last week to be on a bit more familiar terms."

"He _is_ cute," Mary answered. "And clearly intelligent enough to be made Head Boy."

Lily shook her head. "It's not just intelligence. I mean, Potter is intelligent. He's the best in the year at Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but no one would ever say he's Head Boy material. He hasn't grown up enough for _that_."

"Ah. And Dearborn is… grown up?" Mary asked with certain suggestiveness to her voice.

Lily snorted. "More than Potter."

"And now we're back to ranting about Potter," Alice said with a sigh.

Lily ran a hand through her unruly red curls and said, "It just frustrates me. I see how smart he is, how much potential he has, and he's just completely wasting it. He's going to go out into the world believing that he can do anything he wants, hex anyone he wants, and just be a complete prat, and still get away with it. And the worst part is that he _can_. He has the money and the prestige and the blood status to get away with anything, and he doesn't even seem to realize all the good he could be doing with that. It just makes me so angry."

But that wasn't quite right. It wasn't really anger that she felt every time she thought about Potter.

It was disappointment.


	2. So Don't Try to Be All TouchyFeely

Chapter Two: So Don't Try to Be All Touchy-Feely

It was strange to be so suddenly out of school. There was no curfew anymore, and very few rules. There were no House points, no rivalries, no Quidditch games and club meetings. There were no house elves to cook all the meals and clean all the rooms, no easily accessible library filled with obscure texts and ancient tomes, no constant companionship of a few hundred friends and enemies.

They were quite abruptly out on their own.

"Isn't it perfect, Lils?"

Lily shook her head in amusement as Mary started pulling open all of the cabinets in the tiny kitchen in their shared flat. They had signed the lease the day before, writing both their names on the dotted lines and accepting the keys from a slightly skeptical looking landlord.

It was now officially theirs, at least for the next year.

"It's very nice," Lily agreed as Mary pulled open the oven door and inspected the inside. The paint on the walls was slightly faded and dust had accumulated on all the surfaces, but none of that really mattered. Although Lily wouldn't show her excitement in quite as obvious a manner as Mary's bubbling enthusiasm, she was thrilled to finally have a flat of her own.

Although she was a little concerned that this was just one more way in which her blood status set her apart from everyone else.

Alice had explained that most pureblooded witches and wizards lived with their parents after Hogwarts until they had settled into their chosen career and possibly found a potential spouse. And while this wasn't an entirely uncommon attitude among Muggles, neither Lily nor Mary came from families that followed that particular system, and so neither one had any plans to stay with their parents now that they were done with school.

It did mean that she wouldn't be seeing much of her parents, which was disappointing. On the other hand, it was also somewhat of a relief to be away from Petunia and her horrid fiancé. Vernon Dursley had gone out of his way to show Lily just how much he agreed with Petunia's assessment of her magical abilities – although he at least had enough common sense not to call her a freak in front of her parents – and the idea of spending any more time than absolutely necessary in the man's presence was dreadful at best.

Mary ran a hand over the counter and stared at her fingers. "This needs to be cleaned," she announced. Then her eyes lit up with even more excitement, and she spun around to face Lily. "We get to clean our own home! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yes. Wonderful," Lily agreed, trying her best to sound sarcastic. She didn't quite manage it, though, because some part of her agreed with Mary.

It _was_ wonderful.

It was the beginning of her brand new life.

* * *

><p>The room was very different from the dungeons at Hogwarts. There were large windows along one of the walls, letting sunlight spill into the room. Instead of tables set in long rows, there were individual work stations complete with a desk, scales, and a cauldron, a small cupboard for keeping supplies, and several books. The air smelled fresh and clean, with just the faintest lingering scent of lemons.<p>

Lily set her book bag down on a desk in a work station near the center of the room and glanced around. Several other students – no, she reminded herself, _potioneer apprentices_ – were also picking their spots. They all looked to be about her own age, although she only recognized one or two of them from her year at Hogwarts.

A dark haired witch took the station next to Lily and gave her a quick smile. "Evans, isn't it? Lily Evans?"

Lily blinked. "Um…" She cast her mind about quickly, trying to remember where she might have met this other witch. It took only a moment, and then she said hesitantly, "Emmaline Vance? You were a seventh-year prefect when I was a fifth year one, right? In… um… Ravenclaw?"

Emmaline nodded. "Call me Emma," she offered. Then her eyes widened slightly and she asked in awe, "Did you really get into this program right out of Hogwarts? But that's nearly unheard of."

"She's not the _only_ one who's succeeded at that," a cruel voice sneered, and a blonde witch pushed her way past Lily, nearly sending her sprawling. "I don't know why they still bother letting _her_ kind in her, anyway."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Her kind?" she repeated, eyeing the blonde with an incredibly amount of dislike.

The blonde's lip curled into a smirk. "You know. _Filth_." She brushed her hands on her robes and added, "You might not care about contaminating yourself, Vance, but the rest of us purebloods would prefer not to socialize with those of such dirty blood."

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but Lily reached over and rested a hand on her arm. "Don't," she said tiredly. She didn't really want to start another argument, particularly not one that she had heard plenty of times before. She had naively hoped to get away from all of it, but clearly that was not going to happen.

The classroom might look different from the dungeons at Hogwarts, but apparently the same prejudices still existed. At least Slughorn had always been fair to her. Hopefully the instructor for this program would be as well.

The blonde witch gave Lily one last disparaging look before sweeping to the front of the classroom and settling her things into a vacant work station.

"Do you know her?" Emma asked.

Lily nodded. "Eliza Greengrass," she murmured. "She was my year at Hogwarts, in Slytherin." Her eyes swept the room once more. "She's the only one I recognize from my year."

"Like I said, it is unusual for anyone to be accepted into the program directly after graduating from Hogwarts," Emma answered. "She's probably just bitter that a Muggleborn was accomplished enough at potions to obtain one of these spots. Were you the best in your year?"

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but the words got stuck. She thought of Severus and sighed. He would have undoubtedly been offered a place in the program if he had wanted, but as far as she knew, he hadn't even applied. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to use his considerable potion making talents for the creation of healing draughts.

Emma was still staring at her, waiting for an answer.

"No," she said finally. "I wasn't the best in my year."

And Emma picked up on the tone of her voice and wisely chose not to push the issue. Instead, she looked over at Eliza Greengrass and said, "I don't remember her. Was she a prefect?"

Lily shook her head. "No. Although I'm sure she had the marks for it, if not the discipline."

They lapsed into silence for a moment as both began to unpack the supplies they had brought with them. It was mostly basic ingredients and textbooks on advanced potion brewing theory. They would need to by more specific and possibly rare ingredients as the course progressed.

"Have you thought at all about what type of potion you want to focus on?" Emma asked.

Lily shook her head. "Not really. I mean, there is so much out there. Healing potions to cure injuries from the Dark Arts, or maybe something for exotic infections… or maybe some kind of preventative potion. I read a recent article in _Potions Pioneers_ about the possibility of some kind of concoction to actually _prevent_ spell damage. Like a vaccine for curses."

"What's a vaccine?" Emma asked curiously.

"Oh… it's a Muggle thing," Lily replied, flushing slightly even as she dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "It… it um… it is a way of protecting against developing certain diseases by injecting a person with a dead or modified version of the virus."

"Injecting?" Emma asked, horrified. "You mean Muggle healers actually stick needles into people to cure them?"

"It works really well in the Muggle world," Lily said a bit defensively.

"Right, of course it does," Emma answered, backtracking immediately, her voice adopting an apologetic tone. "I just had never really thought about it, I guess."

"Sorry," Lily murmured, "I just get…" She trailed off, not really sure what adjective she was looking for. She knew Emma hadn't meant anything but the question, but it was another reminder of how little purebloods knew about the Muggle world, and how easy it was to dismiss non-magical methods as primitive.

But Emma just smiled and said, "I bet it gets annoying having your friends constantly shocked or appalled by things you take for granted."

"Yeah," Lily answered, glad that her newfound friend didn't seem at all upset. "So… have you thought at all about what kind of potion you want to focus on?"

"A cure for the red plague."

Lily frowned. "Never heard of it."

"It's pretty rare," Emma answered, "so there hasn't been a lot of research on it. It's some kind of magical virus and is mostly found in South America." She paused, turning away from Lily briefly, before adding in a softer voice, "It's what killed my Mum."

"Oh. I… I'm sorry," Lily said, although the words sounded trivial even in her head. She didn't know what else to say, though, and lapsed into an awkward silence.

Emma cleared her throat. "They say the course is absolutely grueling, particularly if you advance through all the stages. It's best to pick a potion you really care about, something you passionately want to cure. This potion… this is it for me."

Lily nodded silently and looked down at her empty cauldron. She didn't have a potion she felt passionately about. She enjoyed brewing pretty much any kind of potion, and she was good enough. But after hearing the raw emotion in Emma's voice, she felt as though she was missing something.

Shouldn't she care as much about her own potential project as Emma cared about hers?

The door at the front of the classroom suddenly opened and a stern-looking witch entered. She appeared to be approximately the same age as Lily's parents, and was tall, gaunt, and wore her hair in a tight bun.

She reminded Lily of Professor McGonagall.

"I am Healer Lanwick," she said. "I will be the instructor for the next three months. This is a grueling course, and many of you will not make it to the next stage. I do not say this to be cruel; it is merely a statement of fact. You are all talented students, but not all of you are talented enough. So prepare to work harder in the next three months than you have ever worked before. I will teach you all that I can, and if you listen and learn you just might possibly succeed." She paused, drew a slow breath as her eyes passed over each student. "Or you might fail."

Lily caught Emma's eye, and the two exchanged encouraging smiles.

"Let us begin," Healer Lanwick said, and Lily turned her attention back to the instructor.

* * *

><p>"Look Prongs, it's Evans!"<p>

James glanced in the direction Sirius was pointing and caught sight of a flash of red hair exiting from Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. Lily paused for a moment on the twisted cobblestone road of Diagon Alley, shifting a bag of supplies in her arms and peering down at a piece of parchment in one hand.

She was clearly shopping.

"I'm going to go talk to her," James announced. "It's been a long time since I've seen her."

"Uh… Prongs? We've only been out of school for a week," Remus pointed out, but James wasn't really listening. He was already moving away from his friends and towards the redheaded witch.

"Evans, hey Evans!" he called.

Lily looked up, an expectant expression on her features, but as soon as she caught sight of him, she frowned. He shoved his way through the crowd, refusing to be dismayed by the irritation he could see reflected clearly in her eyes.

"Potter," she greeted curtly.

He stopped as he drew close to her, however, surprised by how tired she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was paler than usual.

"When was the last time you _slept_?" he blurted out. She raised an eyebrow, and he cringed inwardly realizing how graceless he had sounded. "I mean… you're looking well, Evans."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Some of us are actually doing things with our lives, Potter," she said pointedly. "Instead of goofing off and lazing about."

"I have plans, too, you know," James protested. "Just because I've decided to take some time off for a holiday before rushing into the next thing doesn't mean I don't have ambition."

"What are your plans?"

"Quidditch," James answered without hesitation. "The Wimbourne Wasps have tryouts next week, and they're looking for a starting and reserve Chaser. I figure I'll get at least one of those spots."

"Quidditch," Lily said disparagingly. "Of course. It's good to know that you're putting your talents to such good use." Then she frowned slightly and added, "Does anyone even make a professional Quidditch team right out of Hogwarts?"

"You don't think I'm good enough for them?" James demanded instantly. It was true, of course, that people rarely made it onto a team at such a young age, though there were a few exceptions to that rule. But he was _good_ at Quidditch, and he deserved the best. Besides, if he didn't make it onto Wimbourne Wasps – and that thought was hardly even worth considering it was so ludicrous – then he would still have the opportunity to tryout for the lesser teams.

Still, the fact that Lily apparently didn't think he was a good enough Quidditch player was a little disconcerting. She had been to plenty of his games at Hogwarts; she should know by now that he was quite good.

Then another thought occurred to him and he turned to Lily in surprise, "Since when do you pay enough attention to Quidditch to know that people don't make professional teams directly out of Hogwarts?" He gave her a cocky grin. "Did you start researching Quidditch so that you and I will have something to talk about on our first date?"

"We're not going on a first date, Potter," Lily said firmly. "We're not going on _any_ dates."

James opened his mouth to say something, but then Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all at his side, evidently having decided they had stayed out of the conversation long enough. Lily's gaze hardened as she stared at Sirius and Peter, but there was just a little bit of warmth in her eyes as she looked over at Remus.

James felt a sudden surge of jealousy that he knew was completely irrational. But how dare Lily care about Remus more than him?

As if you to prove just how much more bearable she found Remus, Lily took the opportunity to say, "Hello, Remus. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well," Remus answered. "Are you enjoying your potions course?"

"Oh, yes," Lily replied instantly, her face lighting up. "I know it's only been a few days and it is absolutely exhausting, but it is wonderful so far. I do wish we had gotten a little bit more of a holiday before starting, but I know they want us all to finish the first stage by September, so it makes sense…" She held up the parchment she was still carrying in one hand and added, "I had to buy some more supplies today. That's why I was in Diagon Alley."

James did not miss the shadow that fell over Remus' features at Lily's obvious excitement, and was momentarily distracted from his jealousy. He knew it was hard for Remus to listen to hear Lily talk so happily about her future when he didn't have those kinds of options for himself.

Lily, oblivious to all this, asked, "What are your plans, Remus?"

"I'm working in a bookstore right now," Remus replied. "It's a… it's a Muggle bookstore. It's close to where my parents live, which is nice, because my Mum is often sick."

"Yes, I remember that from school," Lily said sympathetically. She paused awkwardly, then cleared her throat and added, "Black? Pettigrew? What are you both doing?"

"Relying on my dashing good looks and incredible charm to get ahead in the world," Sirius answered with a smirk before Peter could get a word in.

Lily's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Never mind," she snapped. "Sorry I asked." And she turned away from them without waiting to hear if Peter had a response to the question as well.

"Hey, wait, Evans!" James said quickly, grabbing her arm. "One date. Come on, go out with me for one date. You'll have a good time, I promise." He gave her a wink, and added, "Every girl always has a good time."

"Not even if you were the last man alive, Potter," she hissed in reply. "Now let go of me."

He dropped her arm. "Ah, come on…"

"_No_!" And without waiting for his response to her emphatic denial, Lily turned and stormed away.

There was a momentarily silence, then Peter said in a quiet voice, and mostly to himself, "No idea what I'm doing with my future, Lily. Thanks for asking."

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry about it, Wormtail. Evans probably wouldn't have even listened to your answer, anyway. She's too busy being angry at Prongs."

James nodded half-heartedly in agreement, then turned to Remus. "How come she talks to you?" he demanded.

Lily had always been on far better terms with Remus then any of the other Marauders, although even those two weren't really friends. But she was able to carry on a conversation with Remus without yelling at him, insulting him, or calling him an arrogant prat.

That was not something that had ever happened with James.

"Why don't you try actually talking to her?" Remus suggested mildly. "Have a conversation with her where you ask about how she is doing and listen to her answers and show interest in her life… and _don't_ ask her out."

"But if Prongs doesn't ask her out, how is Evans ever going to say yes?" Sirius countered reasonably.

Remus stared at Sirius for a moment, then asked, "How is it you had so much luck with girls at Hogwarts when you know so little about them?"

"My inherent wit, charm, and good looks."

"Right," Remus drawled. "That must be it." He turned to James then and added, "Really, James. Just try talking to her. Not _at_ her. Girls – and really, all people – like that."

James frowned. The rare use of his actual name instead of his nickname was a sign that Remus was being quite serious with his advice, but James wasn't sure it would help him at all. He couldn't help it if every time he saw Lily he had an undeniable urge to ask her out. And he was fairly certain the problem wasn't with him, anyway. It was with her.

After all, she was the one who kept saying no.

* * *

><p>Two days after their meeting in Diagon Alley, James ran into Lily again, this time in Muggle London. It was such a chance meeting that for a moment he stood there, staring at her, wondering if he was imagining things.<p>

Had he started to hallucinate?

Or, more likely, had Sirius slipped some hallucinogenic potion into his drink?

"Potter," Lily said, nodding her head briefly. Then there was a flare of suspicion in her eyes. "Are you _stalking_ me?"

"Of course not," James replied immediately. "The world doesn't revolve around _you_, Evans."

Of course, as far as he was concerned, the world _did_ revolve around her. But he truly hadn't been stalking her, and had now idea why should would even think that.

She answered his unasked question with a question of her own. "Then why are you standing in front of my flat?"

James turned and looked at the building to his right. It had three stories, and the wood was covered in slightly faded white paint. There was no lawn of any sort, but a few of the windows did have boxes filled with flowers, and there was a bit of ivy growing along the side of one of the walls.

"You live here?" he asked, surprised. It wasn't a particularly nice place, but it wasn't bad, and it was in a decent part of London. Still, after the grandeur of Hogwarts, he wondered how she could so easily adjust to such a place.

"Second floor," Lily answered shortly. "With Mary McDonald. And you still haven't answered my question. What are _you_ doing here?"

"The bookstore Remus works at is only a few blocks away," James answered. "I Apparated into that alley behind the beauty salon," he gestured backwards with one hand towards the garish pink building near the end of the block with it's large metal letters perched on the roof that spelled out the word salon, "and figured I'd walk the few blocks to the bookstore. I doubt Remus would appreciate having me suddenly Apparate in front of his Muggle boss."

Lily offered him a rare smile. "That probably wouldn't go over so well."

"You know," James said thoughtfully, basking in the warmth that filled him at the sight of that smile, "this must be kismet."

Her smile immediately turned into a frown.

"Kismet?" she repeated.

"Kismet. Fate. Destiny. A series of preordained circumstances."

"I know what kismet is, Potter," Lily snapped. "I'm just not entirely sure what you mean when you say _this_ is kismet."

"This chance meeting of ours," James explained. "I mean, what is the likelihood that Remus would choose to work in a bookstore near where you live, and that I would be visiting him and pass by here at the exact moment that you're returning to your flat? The world is trying to tell us something, Evans."

"It's _coincidence_, Potter," she retorted.

Remus had explicitly warned against this. He had been quite clear in his advice, had insisted that it would be better for James to refrain from asking her out every time he saw her. The conversation should stick to merely platonic topics. James should show that he was interested in her life, in her hopes and dreams, in her fears, and in all that other girly stuff.

James had never been good at following advice, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Come on, Evans. Coincidence? Really?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think there's maybe something else going on?" he asked, stepping in front of her as she tried to walk by him and towards her flat. Blocking her path and folding his arms over his chest in a gesture he hoped showed just how serious he was, he waited for her answer.

"What do you mean?" she asked, irritation creeping into her voice.

"Well, you can't _really_ hate me this much," James answered calmly. "There's something else going on. Some other reason you're so reluctant to give me a chance. What is it?"

"There _isn't_ another reason, Potter," Lily replied through clenched teeth. "Now move."

"Not until we talk about this," James replied. "Do you have some insecurity involving dating? Did you have a bad experience in the past? We can work through it."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter, I don't need a therapist!"

James furrowed his brow. "What's a therapist?"

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head quickly. "Forget it."

"No, really," James protested. "What's therapist? Is it a Muggle thing?" Lily didn't answer, and James sighed. "Come on, Evans. I'm just trying to understand what you meant."

Lily sighed and, looking very much like she suspected she was soon going to regret starting this conversation, said, "A therapist is… well, a bit like a Healer. Only for the brain. And they don't use any kind of medication. They help Muggles by identifying the root of the problem and… well, talking about it. There's also all this theory about the id and the ego and the superego. Have you ever heard of Sigmund Freud?"

James shook his head wordlessly.

"Oh." Lily paused, then sighed again. "It's like explaining vaccines to Emma," she muttered under her breath.

"What's a vaccine?" James asked curiously. "And who's Emma?" He still didn't fully understand therapy, and he doubted vaccines would make much more sense to him – particularly if they were as oddly convoluted as other ideas of Muggle medicine – but at least Lily was talking to him.

But Lily had apparently decided to stop talking about this particular subject. Lifting her chin, she said firmly, "Move, Potter. It's been a long day and I'd like to go inside now."

"One date, Evans. We can talk about your issues. I can be your therapist."

Lily snorted. "You're not qualified," she retorted. "And even if you were, I still don't have any problems I need a therapist for. Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because I'm trying to show an interest in your life," James said. It was hardly suave or debonair, but he had tried both of those techniques before at Hogwarts, and they hadn't worked. Lily wouldn't give him the time of day then, and even if he wasn't able to follow all of Remus' advice, he could at least try a little of it.

Lily opened and closed her mouth several times, apparently at a loss for words. Finally, she asked, "What?"

"I'm trying to show an interest in your life," James repeated. "You know… show that I care and that I want to hear about your plans for the future and all that other stuff."

"A bit of advice, Potter. Next time you try to flirt with a girl, don't refer to all the things she cares about as _that other stuff_. She might assume you're being dismissive," Lily said bitterly. "Now _move_."

"You barely even know me, Evans. How can you hate me this much?" James demanded.

"I know you much more than I want to," Lily answered coolly. "I watched you strut around Hogwarts for seven years, hexing anyone who crossed paths with you. I watched you take enjoyment out of humiliating other people. I watched you goof off and waste your time and intelligence on ridiculous pranks. What more do I need to know about you?"

James didn't have an answer for that, and Lily shoved past him and walked up the short path to the door that lead into her building, and disappeared from view.

James kicked savagely out the cement sidewalk with the toe of his shoe, then stared glumly in the direction she had gone.

"I love you," he murmured. "That's something you don't know."


	3. You Lie, to My Face of All Places

Chapter Three: You Lie, to My Face of All Places

Only a few days into the program, Lily decided that she hated Eliza Greengrass. The blonde witch seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting her, and it took all of Lily's willpower to keep from hexing the smug smile off the other girl's lips, and to keep from bursting into tears. It hadn't taken her long to determine that Emma was right, Eliza _was_ jealous of the fact that a Muggleborn had been offered one of these coveted spots.

But that knowledge didn't make her snide comments any easier to bear.

"I don't see why you bother, Evans," she said coolly, flicking a strand of silky hair out of her eyes with one perfectly manicured finger. "You won't make it to the next stage in the program."

"She has more of a chance than you do!" Emma hissed back, jumping into the conversation before Lily had a chance to defend herself.

Eliza laughed softly, her tone malicious. "Does she now? Really?" She cast a critical look at Lily and said, "Those spots don't go to Mudbloods."

Emma's wand was drawn almost immediately. "Don't say that word," she spat furiously, eyes flashing with a dangerous anger that quite abruptly reminded Lily of Sirius Black.

"Emma, don't," she said tiredly. "Please. Just drop it."

Unlike Black, Emma actually listened to Lily's request and nodded. She lowered her wand slowly, still glaring at Eliza.

Eliza's smile grew into a full-blown smirk. "Why, Vance, has the filthy Mudblood got you on a leash already?"

Emma made a sudden, jerky movement, but Lily caught her arm. "Just ignore her," she hissed, all the while feeling the blood rush to her own face. She was no doubt bright crimson by now, and she knew a few of the other students had turned to watch. She didn't want to be the center of attention, didn't want others witnessing this argument.

She wondered idly how many of them agreed with Eliza.

Eliza shook her head. "You won't succeed," she said again. "Do you even have a potion picked out?"

When Lily didn't answer, Eliza just shook her head again, amusement in her expression, and then sauntered away.

"Ignore her, Evans," a wizard standing at a work station a few spot away from her said. "She's from one of those old pureblood families that think they're so much better than us mere mortals. Too bad they're all completely loony from all the inbreeding." He flashed her a brief smile. "I'm Benjy, by the way. Benjy Fenwick."

"Lily Evans," Lily replied, tucking a few strands of red hair behind one ear. "And this is Emmaline Vance."

Benjy nodded a greeting to Emma. "Nice to meet you both." He chewed his lip and glanced around the room. "I wish we got more of an opportunity to meet everyone here. I mean, we're going to be spending so much time locked in this room with each other, you'd think Healer Lanwick would want us all to get along. But she didn't even let us talk during the last three classes when we were working independently."

"She's quite strict," Lily agreed.

As if on cue, Healer Lanwick strode purposefully into the room, closing the door behind with a firm slam. "That is enough talking," she said sternly, eyes sweeping the room. "Let us begin."

Lily turned her attention away from Benjy and Emma and tried to focus on what their instructor was saying. But Eliza's words kept coming back to her, replying over and over in her mind. It was hard to discount what the blonde had said, not because she actually believed any of that tripe about blood purity, but because she still hadn't picked out a potion to study. She just couldn't come up with anything that she truly cared about that much.

And, annoyingly, Eliza didn't seem to have that problem. She didn't seem to have _any_ problems. With her flawless blonde hair and her stunning yet delicate features and her money and blood status, she was the epitome of perfect, and she knew it.

Lily truly did not want to lose a spot in the program to someone like that.

* * *

><p>After another grueling day of class, Lily found herself taking a slightly longer and more scenic route back to her house. The path led her past Helga's Haunt, one of the few wizarding establishments set in the heart of Muggle London. The door were open, and the sound of music and chatter was spilling out onto the street. A few men and women, all of them looking slightly drunk, came stumbling out of the doorway, laughing uproariously.<p>

The pub itself was poorly lit and shabby, but the people inside never seemed to mind that. They were there for the cheap alcohol and the brawls that broke out nearly every night.

Muggles couldn't see it. She assumed they couldn't hear it, either, or they would wonder where the constant music was coming from.

"It's not really your kind of place, Lily."

She started, then spun around to find Caradoc Dearborn standing on the sidewalk next to her. His brilliant blue eyes were twinkling at her, and she felt heat slowly rising in her cheeks.

"Caradoc." She glanced quickly at the pub. "I wasn't planning on going in," she said, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. He had been right; it was most certainly not her kind of place. "I was just walking home, and happened to pass by," she explained.

"I see," Caradoc said. "And how is the advanced potion course? Everything you hoped it would be and more?"

That sort of question would have been accompanied by teasing laughter had it come from Mary or Alice, and would have led into a discussion of Lily's obsession with Healing potions. But there was a true sincerity in Caradoc's voice, and Lily knew he actually wanted to hear what she thought of her class.

Perhaps it was that sincerity, or perhaps it was the look of interest in his eyes, or perhaps it was merely because she had had a long day and wanted someone to talk to, and he was standing right there. Whatever the reason, though, Lily found herself answering the question honestly, spilling out things she hadn't really meant to tell anyone, least of all someone she didn't know that well.

"It's difficult," she admitted. "I know I am out of Hogwarts and so things are different, but in some ways, they feel exactly the same. Eliza Greengrass is a right cow. And I think she's actually going to do better at this than I am because she knows what she wants and I don't have a clue. Everyone else has a potion already picked out. Everyone else has something that they feel so strongly about. And I… I don't."

She stopped, abruptly cutting off the words, and lifted a hand to her lips. She felt ridiculous and embarrassed. Had she really just confided all of that in a man she only knew because he had been Head Boy to her Head Girl? They weren't even really friends, although they were at least civil and somewhat informal with each other.

"Oh, Merlin…" she muttered under her breath, then said in a louder voice, "I'm sorry, Caradoc. I'm sure you didn't actually want to hear about all of that."

"If I didn't want to hear any of it," Caradoc answered, "I wouldn't have asked." Lily was silent, unsure how to respond, and Caradoc continued, "And you will figure out what potion to work on. You'll probably come up with something you care about fervently enough to want to spend every waking minute working on it."

Lily smiled. "Thank you," she said, and meant it.

"You're welcome," Caradoc replied. He looked past Lily to Helga's Haunt and squared his shoulders. "I guess I should venture in there now," he muttered under his breath.

"You're going into Helga's Haunt?" Lily demanded incredulously. "I didn't think it was your kind of place, either."

Caradoc chuckled. "It's not. My brother is somewhere in there, and I need to go pull him out before he makes a complete fool of himself… as usual." His eyes narrowed slightly as he added with a bitter tone, "He's always making a fool of himself, and somehow I am the one running around trying to be responsible. It's like he's forgotten that he's the older brother."

Lily frowned and said, "How much older is he?"

"Five years," Caradoc answered. "I doubt you knew him at Hogwarts."

Lily was quiet. Caradoc had never mentioned his brother before, but then perhaps that wasn't much of a surprise, because she had never mentioned Petunia. The nights they had patrolled together had been filled mostly with conversation about schoolwork and plans for the future, and they had spoken very little about their families, friends, or the past.

"He went into the Ministry after Hogwarts," Caradoc murmured, "but only lasted a few years. Ever since he quit his job my father has had to drag him out of these types of places, and now it's my turn…" He trailed off with a heavy sigh, then turned to Lily and said, "Sorry. You probably didn't want to hear all of that."

"If I didn't want to hear it," she said, "I wouldn't have asked."

"You didn't ask," Caradoc answered with a grin, some of the light coming back into his eyes. "All you asked was how old my brother was. Generally that question only requires a number for an answer."

Lily felt herself smiling as well. "It was nice to run into you," she said.

"You, too," Caradoc agreed. Lily turned to go, and he cleared his throat before calling out, "Hey, uh… Lily?"

She turned back expectantly. "Yes?"

"Do you maybe want to go out sometime?" Caradoc asked, scratching at the back of his neck absently. He look uncomfortable, but his expression was open and earnest as he said, "Like… um… on a date?"

Lily's eyes widened. She had been popular at Hogwarts – at least among everyone besides the Slytherins – and had dated before. But her boyfriends had never been serious, and each time she was asked out, she still go the same fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

And this was Caradoc Dearborn. He had been Head Boy. He was good and smart and responsible and caring and attractive.

"I'd love to," she replied.

* * *

><p>Two days later, Lily found herself standing with Caradoc in a Muggle bookstore, peering at the different classics lining the shelves.<p>

They had dined at another Muggle place, a small resturaunt that served rather bland and incredibly over-priced food, but the conversation had been lively and entertaining, and Lily hadn't wanted the night to end. It was the first time since starting the potions program a week prior that she had been able to enjoy a night without work or worry. So when he had suggested browsing the nearby bookstore, she had quickly agreed.

Caradoc was a half-blood, and she felt it somewhat of a relief that he had actually heard of Jane Austin and Charlotte Bronte.

"I've read Austin," Caradoc admitted as Lily pulled out a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. "Not Bronte, though my mother loves her. She can never stop talking about _Wuthering Heights_."

Lily flipped through the pages of the book in her hands as she asked casually, "Did your mother try to get you to read Muggle authors on purpose?"

Caradoc nodded. "Still does. She always bugs me about doing chores without magic, too. Says she doesn't want me to lose sight of the fact that I have a Muggle heritage as well." He grinned, face flushed with laughter, and added, "I don't think she's ever forgiven my father for not telling her he was a wizard until _after_ they married."

Lily chuckled. "That must have been a nasty shock for her."

Caradoc nodded again. "What about your parents?" he asked after a moment. "How did they handle finding out you were a witch?"

"They were fine with it, at least after the shock had worn off," Lily replied, smiling warmly at the memory of her father's slack-jawed stare. "I guess in some ways I was lucky because I found out I was a witch before getting my Hogwarts letter. I think that might have been a bit too much for them. To so abruptly learn that I had magic and that I was going to go to boarding school away from them… Mary got her letter the summer before she was expected to leave, and she said her parents nearly had a fit about it. Can you imagine only giving a family a few months to adjust to _that_ kind of news?"

"Mary McDonald?"

"Mm. Yeah." She replaced the copy of Pride and Prejudice on the bookshelf and looked around, her eyes scanning everything. She loved bookstores.

"How did you find out?" Caradoc asked, trailing her as she wandered out of the fiction section and into a section on poetry.

"Find out what?" she questioned absently as her gaze fell on a book of poems by W.B. Yeats. She picked it up quickly, almost gleefully. Her mother had read Yeats to her when she was younger. She and Petunia would sit on the floor by the fireplace and listen to their mother's voice as it rose and fell over words she didn't understand at the time.

Of course, that was back when she and Petunia had actually been able to bear each other's company.

"How did you find out you were a witch?" Caradoc clarified.

"Oh." Lily sighed and closed the book of poems. "Severus Snape. He and I used to live in the same area and…" She hesitated, torn. Part of her wanted to tell Caradoc everything, to let her frustrations and fears come bubbling out as they had two nights ago in front of Helga's Haunt.

The other part of her didn't even want to think about Severus.

"We used to be friends," she said finally in a clipped tone. "He saw me using magic and told me I was a witch."

Caradoc must have picked up on her reluctance to talk about this subject, because he said nothing else about it. Instead, he reached out and took the book from her hands. She released it, and watched as he flipped through the pages, silently skimming the words.

He cleared his throat and read aloud, "The purity of the unclouded moon/has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor./ Seven centuries have passed, and it is pure,/the blood of innocence has left no stain./ There, on blood-saturated ground have stood/soldier, assassin, executioner." He looked up at Lily, eyebrows raised. "You _like_ this?"

She snatched the book back from him, blushing, and said defensively, "It's _Yeats_. Of course I like it." And, looking down at the still open page, she finished the stanza, "Whether for daily pittance or in blind fear/or out of abstract hatred, and shed blood,/but could not cast a single jet therein./ Odour of blood on the ancestral stair!/ And we that have shed none must gather there/and clamour in drunken frenzy for the moon."

"What does that even mean?" Caradoc demanded.

Before Lily could answer, the sound of a sudden, angry snarl caught her attention, and she and Caradoc both turned to see the owner of the bookstore advancing in fury on his hapless employee.

"I told you to organize the books by author," the man spat, black eyes flashing. "I didn't hire you to sit around and do nothing! You should have finished this already."

The employee raised both his hands in a sign of surrender and said in a pleading tone, "I'm sorry. I just haven't gotten to it yet. But I will."

"Haven't gotten to it yet?" the owner snorted. "What's been keeping you so busy, eh? Was it because you were off _sick_ this week? Don't think you can pretend to be ill to get out of this job. I'm not paying you for work you don't do."

"I wasn't pretending," the employee answered, and there was enough exhaustion in his voice for Lily to easily believe that he hadn't been lying about being sick.

But that wasn't what caught her attention. No, she was more focused on the familiarity of that voice, and of the light brown hair with the silver tint.

"Remus?"

Remus Lupin spun around in surprise. He gaped at Lily for a moment, then found his voice and said quickly, "Oh, hello, Lily. Dearborn."

"Lupin," Caradoc said with a nod and a slight smile. His eyes narrowed in dislike, though, as they slid past Remus and focused on the owner of the bookstore.

Lily had to silently agree with that sentiment. Just who did this man think he was, accusing _Remus_ of all people of trying to get out of doing his work?

"And I certainly didn't pay you to waste time talking to your friends," the owner said, glaring at Caradoc for a moment before looking at Remus. "So you can tell them to get lost. I expect you to do your work. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Remus said, and bowed his head. He looked beaten, and Lily just stared at him in surprise and dismay. Remus might not have frequently stood up to his friends at Hogwarts, but he hadn't let them – or anyone else – treat him like this. She had never seen him act so crushed.

"We're actually customers," Lily said coolly. "We were here looking at your selection of poetry." She practically flung the Yeats book at the owner. "But I don't think we're interested anymore. Are we, Caradoc?"

"No, we're not," Caradoc said, and slid his arm around Lily's waist.

Lily watched as Remus' eyes traveled from her face to Caradoc's arm, and then widened in disbelief.

The owner just rolled his eyes and muttered something about useless louts underneath his breath before turning away from them. Lily watched him go in silent anger, then turned back to Remus. She studied his appearance, and her anger quickly drained away, replaced by concern.

"Are you feeling alright, Remus?" she asked.

There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was an unnaturally pale color. He had always been thin, but that seemed to be exacerbated at the moment. His face looked gaunt and sunken. There was also a gash on his arm. She could just see the end of it peeking out from under his shirt, and it looked raw and red and painful.

But more than that, it was the look of utter hopeless defeat in his eyes that concerned her.

He waved away her concerns and forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I've just been a bit under the weather," he said casually. Then he lowered his voice and, after glancing quickly around to make sure the shop owner was close enough to hear, he added, "And my boss is a complete git."

Dearborn laughed. "Yeah, we got that," he said. "But why are you even working in a Muggle bookstore, Lupin? You were a prefect, you must have had top marks. Surely you could get a job in the Ministry or something like that."

Lupin shrugged, but wouldn't quite meet Caradoc's eyes as he answered, "Guess I just wanted a little change of scenery. This place isn't so bad."

"I thought your boss was a git?" Caradoc countered.

Remus smiled tiredly. "Yeah, well… I do like books."

"Lily does, too," Caradoc said with a quick look and a charming smile for the redhead. "She's just been explaining the joys of Yeats poetry to me." He wrinkled his nose as he said that, clearly demonstrating his opinion on the matter. But his gaze was frank and open and his tone was teasing, and Lily felt a warm contentment as his arm tightened around her waist.

This was nice. It was pleasant and sweet and easy.

"Are you two on a date?" Remus asked curiously, his eyes once again focused on Caradoc's arm.

"We are," Lily answered immediately.

"Huh. Well…"

"What?" Caradoc demanded, apparently taken aback by Remus' disheartened tone.

"Nothing. I just… Sirius and I had a bet on whether or not the two of you would start dating at Hogwarts. Since you were Head Boy and Head Girl." He tilted his head to the side and said contemplatively, "It's after Hogwarts, though, so maybe I can convince Sirius he didn't actually win."

"Black thought we would start dating?" Lily asked sharply.

At the same time, Caradoc snorted and said sarcastically, "The famed Gryffindor Marauders were making bets on our personal dating lives?"

"It was just Sirius and I. For obvious reasons, James didn't want to join in on the bet," Remus replied, "although he agreed with me…" He trailed off and didn't elaborate, and Lily felt as though she was missing something. But Caradoc was nodding thoughtfully, as though Remus' response had made sense to him, and Lily decided it wasn't worth pursuing that topic of conversation just to understand more about Potter or Black.

Particularly given that she disliked both of them.

"We should probably get going," Caradoc said after a moment's pause. He looked down at Lily. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, still staring at Remus. "Caradoc, I'll meet you outside, alright?" she softly.

Caradoc opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and merely shrugged. He dropped his arm from Lily's side and left her and Remus alone. Lily turned to watch him go for a moment, and felt a smile tug at her lips as she saw him send another glare at the bookstore owner.

"He really doesn't have to do that," Remus said with a sigh, jerking his head in Caradoc's direction. "It won't make a difference, anyway. Angry glares are not going to change anything here."

"He doesn't like seeing people treated badly," Lily answered, the smile still on her lips. She shook her head and pushed Caradoc out of her thoughts, focusing instead of the wizard standing before her.

Remus folded his arms over his chest and eyed Lily warily. "Something you wanted?" he asked.

"What's going on?" she asked bluntly. Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Lily interrupted him. "You look horrible, Remus. Are you really that sick? I mean… you look practically _green_." She gestured wide with her arms, indicating the store around them, and continued, "Why are you working at a place like this?"

Remus forced a laugh that sounded stilted and hollow. "You worry to much, Lily. I was sick, but I'm doing much better now. And like I said… I like books."

"You could find a different place to work," Lily protested. "Or you could work at a magical bookstore. What about Flourish and Blotts? Or there are plenty of bookstores in Hogsmeade, too."

"Lily," Remus interrupted firmly, "It's fine." He sounded weary, but also determined, as he pressed onwards, "There's nothing for you to worry about. It's just been a bad night, and my boss is sometimes awful, but I do like it here. And I just need a few more days to recover and then I'll be back to my normal healthy self again." He smiled, and this time there was genuine warmth in his eyes as he said, "I do appreciate your concern, though."

Lily sighed heavily. "I just want to help," she said.

"I know," Remus answered. "And I am grateful for it. But everything is _fine_."

He was lying. He was staring directly into her eyes and lying to her, and that bothered Lily far more than she was willing to admit. But there wasn't anything she could say or do to change his mind, so she murmured a farewell and left him standing there.

Caradoc was waiting for her outside. He gave her a questioning look, and she shook her head slowly, frustration and sorrow filling her.

"I thought he would talk to me if you weren't there," she said. "I thought he would tell me what was wrong, let me help… I just wanted to… Gryffindor loyalty and all that."

Caradoc pulled her into his side, and she leaned against him. "He's got Potter, Black, and Pettigrew to look out for him, Lily," he said. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I guess," Lily agreed, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she should be able to do more for him.

The two of them started walking along the sidewalk. Caradoc kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against him and looked up at the sky. It was hard to see any of the stars with the numerous lights of Muggle London obscuring the view, but the moon was shining brightly enough to be seen through the haze of clouds and the light pollution from the city.

Caradoc followed her gaze. "Full moon," he commented. "That's romantic."

"I think the full moon was a few nights ago," Lily corrected. Caradoc slanted a questioning look at her, and she explained, "I still have some of my books from our Astronomy class. I was reviewing them this week. I don't want to forget everything we learned over the past seven years."

"Somehow, I doubt you will," Caradoc answered, his tone a mixture of admiration and teasing.

Lily frowned at him. "You have quite a talent for making a compliment sound like an insult," she said.

Caradoc laughed again, and Lily soon joined in, chuckling in amusement.

It had been a pleasant evening.

* * *

><p>"They started dating after Hogwarts, Padfoot. You didn't win."<p>

"It was close enough, Moony. Come on, cough up the Knut."

"No!"

"Fine. If you're that worried about money, I'll let you skip out of paying for this one. But I did win."

"No, you didn't. And I am not worried about losing a Knut, Padfoot. I can afford that. But it is the principle of the matter. You _lost_."

"What are you two arguing about this time?"

Sirius and Remus stopped in the middle of what they were dong and looked up in surprise as James entered the room. Remus instantly felt abashed; he hadn't come here to tell James about Lily and Caradoc. Somehow, he knew his friend wouldn't take the news too well.

Sirius didn't seem to have those qualms. "Evans and Dearborn are together," he said, "and Moony won't pay me for the bet. I _won_."

"The bet was that they would start going together at Hogwarts," Remus snapped back.

James had latched onto only one part of the argument, and didn't care about anything else. His expression fell as he asked quietly, "Evans and Dearborn are dating? How do you know?"

"They came into the bookstore," Remus said.

"Ah, cheer up, Prongs," Sirius said. "There are plenty of other girls out there."

James walked over to the overstuffed armchair near the decorative fireplace of the flat Sirius had moved into after getting money from his Uncle Alphard and flopped down on the seat. "I don't want another bloody girl," he muttered angrily. "What does she see in him? He's a complete prat."

"Dearborn? I don't know, Prongs, I think he's okay," Sirius answered.

James glared at him. "Well, maybe you should go snog him, too," he growled.

"Oh, well done, Sirius," Remus hissed. Honestly, didn't he have any sense at all? James' infatuation with Lily was far more than just a passing sentiment. They had put up with it for years, after all.

But Sirius seemed to realize that James' foul mood was now going to linger over everything, and he said, "Ah, cheer up. Dearborn might not be a bad sort, but he's a right prat. Boring, too. Evans will break up with him in no time."

Remus wondered idly how someone could be both a decent person and a complete prat, but decided not to ask Sirius that question. James was smiling slightly at the comment, and that was good enough for the moment.

Then James turned to Remus and asked, "Did you talk to her when she came into the bookstore?"

Remus' expression soured. "Yes, I did," he said quietly, thinking about the tense conversation.

James registered Remus' frown and was instantly alert. "What's wrong?" he demanded. "Did something happen? Is she okay? What did she say to you?"

Remus raised his eyebrows and said flatly, "She's fine, Prongs. I'm the one who tried to claw myself to shreds a few nights ago, remember?" He exhaled slowly, then crossed to the sofa opposite James and sat down. "She and Dearborn arrived when Mr. Pracket was berating me for being sick early this week. Lily could see that something was wrong. She wanted to know why I was so sick, why I was working in a Muggle bookstore, and if there was anything she could do to help."

"What did you tell her?" Sirius asked.

"That everything was fine and not to worry about it," Remus answered. "What else could I tell her?"

There was a silence as all three of them thought over Remus' words. It was true; there really was anything else he could have said to her without revealing his secret. And that was something he was loathe to do, even if he was fairly certain that Lily could be more open-minded than many other witches or wizards.

"She's right, though," James said. "You shouldn't be working at that place. I've seen the way Pracket treats you."

"I need to make a salary somehow," Remus replied. "It might not be the best place to work, but at least he's paying me. You know I'll never get a job in the magical world."

"There has to be something…" Sirius started, but Remus interrupted him.

"I would be required by law to report my lycanthropy status to any potential employers," he said dully, "and you can bet they wouldn't hire me then. And even if I could somehow lie on my application forms, they'd figure it out when I started missing work around the full moon. And the penalty for lying to an employer about being a werewolf is one year in Azkaban, Sirius. I'd rather not risk that."

"And what are you going to do when Pracket gets annoyed that you're sick every single month and fires you?"

"Find a new job," Remus answered. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling so much more tired than he would have ever thought possible. At least at Hogwarts, before entering the unforgiving world, he had been protected by the understanding and compassion of the Headmaster.

He didn't have that now. He didn't have _anything_ now, and he'd realized that he had been taking it all for granted in the past.

Well, that wasn't quite true. He still had his friends, and he still had access to the Shrieking Shack. But even the transformations were going to be more painful. He no longer had Madam Pomfrey to help fix him up the next day. Every gash, every wound, every vicious claw or bite mark… She had always given him the right healing potions and salves and then let him sleep off the painful aftermath of his transformation. Now, he knew, he would start waking the morning after with the same injuries and nothing to do but wait for them to heal naturally.

He could go to St. Mungo's, but that required money, and he just didn't have enough of it. His parents had nearly impoverished themselves taking care of him when he was growing up, and he wasn't going to go to them for help. They would give it to him without question and without any regard for what it would cost them, and he couldn't do that. He couldn't let them take care of him forever, not when it took so much from them.

And all that meant that it would take his body longer to recover, and the subsequent transformations would be worse because he would be too tired to fight against the wolf with his usual strength and passion.

He opened his eyes and, looking at Sirius and James, said, "For all the problems working in the Muggle world will cause, it is still the only viable option. There is no way I can get a job anywhere in the magical world and you _know_ that."

"We could support you for a while," James offered, "until we can figure something out."

James had made the offer twice already since the last full moon, and each time Remus had flatly refused.

He refused this time as well.

"I'm not taking your money, Prongs."

"Don't be so proud, Moony," James retorted, his tone hard. "I want to help. We all want to help, but you keep letting your pride get in the way. Why can't you see that?"

Remus rolled his eyes. Did _James_ of all people really think he was qualified to give a lecture on the dangers of pride?

Still… it did fill him with warmth to know he had friends who cared enough about him to offer that kind of help.

* * *

><p>AN: The stanza by Yeats that Caradoc and Lily read is from the poem _Blood and the Moon_.


	4. But I've Got No Problem With That Really

Chapter Four: But I've Got No Problem With That, Really

He had no idea why he was here.

The large hall was lavish and extravagant. The floor was white and black marble, and a long green rug ran from the doorway at the back of the hall towards the elevated platform near the front. The seats were covered in cushions of green fabric with silver embroidery. There were blue and bronze drapes hanging along the walls because, of course, Ravenclaw House wasn't as despised as Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, and their colors were allowed. The chandeliers were made from silver, platinum, and white gold, and were magically suspended in midair, floating above the rows of chairs. Garlands of white flowers cascaded from the platform and spilled onto the marble floor near the first row of chairs.

"Lilies," an old, wizened woman whispered as she bent over to inspect them. "A symbol of purity."

Sirius smirked slightly at that, and made a mental note to mention this to Evans the next time he saw her. He knew it was slightly petty to go out of his way to say things that he knew would annoy her – such as, _Hey, Evans, did you know your name means pure and chaste?_ or _Guess what, Evans? Your namesake was the flower of choice at a pureblood wedding_ – but he had spent the better part of four years listening to his best mate drone on and on about the wonderfulness that was Lily Evans, and it annoyed him.

But it didn't annoy him nearly as much as the fact that he was standing in a wedding hall, prepared to sit through at least an hour of torture as he watched Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy get married.

He still wasn't sure why he had come. His mother had sent a threatening Howler, and it was the first communication of any kind he had received since she had disowned him and blasted his name off the family tree.

That wasn't the reason he had come, though. His mother's opinion of him meant nothing, and he had no desire to reconcile with her or any of the family. He knew Andromeda wouldn't be there, and since his Uncle Alphard's death, there wasn't anyone else at the family he wanted to see.

Except Regulus.

Regulus was still his brother, and that _mattered_, even if he desperately wished it didn't.

He scanned the hall. His mother and father were standing near his Uncle Cygnus. Aunt Druella didn't appear to be in the hall yet, so no doubt she was helping Narcissa prepare. It was probably for the best, as Sirius wasn't sure he could refrain from hexing her. She was, in his opinion, the worst of the family, though Bellatrix was turning out to be just a bad as her mother.

"You came."

Sirius turned around to see Regulus standing there, wearing in elegant green dress robes and a look of surprise. Eliza Greengrass stood next to him, resting a hand lightly on his arm. Her blonde hair was swept out of her face into a complicated knot, and she was wearing a dress that closely matched the color of Regulus' robes.

Sirius wondered vaguely if they had bought the outfits together. Or had his mother bought both of them? No doubt she was pushing this match. The Greengrasses were a respected family, and Eliza certainly upheld the pureblood ideals.

"I did come," Sirius agreed quietly.

"And without a date," Eliza said, smirking coolly.

"I'm not Regulus," Sirius retorted. "I'm not willing to settle for someone subpar."

Two splotches of color appeared on Eliza's cheeks as she took a step forward. "Why you little…" she started, but Regulus caught her arm.

"Stop it," he said hoarsely. "Both of you. Just _stop_." Sirius looked at his brother in surprise, and Regulus continued, "It's Cissy's wedding day. Let's not ruin it with fighting."

Sirius snorted. He would have been impressed at his brother's rather mature actions had he actually believed that Regulus meant what he said. But no doubt it was merely a warning from Druella and Cygnus to avoid fighting that was keeping Regulus in line.

Eliza nodded slowly and stepped back. "Very well," she said, inclining her head in Regulus' direction. Her eyes were still on Sirius as she added in a sickeningly sweet tone, "It's too bad that you weren't able to find a girl who would come with you, though. Did you ask Evans? She seems like the kind of filth you spent time with."

"Evans?" Sirius repeated. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Well, I just assumed she would have free time," Eliza said, "given that she is so close to failing out of her potions program." She lowered her voice and said in a icy whisper, "The Mudbloods never do get that far."

It took Sirius a moment to work out what she was saying, then he said with dawning realization, "You're in the same advanced studies program as Evans." He folded his arms over his chest. "I sincerely doubt she is _failing_. She was a better potioneer than you ever were, I remember that much."

"That was at Hogwarts," Eliza cooed. "This is the real world." She turned to Regulus. "Come on, Reg. Let's find someone _better_ to talk to."

Regulus gave Sirius a long look, and there was something in his gaze that Sirius couldn't decipher. But then he merely nodded and allowed Eliza to lead him away.

Sirius clenched his hands into fists.

Maybe he wouldn't mention anything about the lilies to Evans after all.

He turned determinedly away from his brother and Eliza and glanced around again. It seemed as though every noteworthy pureblood family was here. The Rosiers, Averys, Malfoys, Lestranges, Crouches, Crabbes, Prewetts, Longbottoms… but the McKinnons and the Potters were conspicuously absent. Sirius wondered vaguely if they had been invited and neglected to come, or if they had not even been invited.

James hadn't mentioned anything, but he and Sirius rarely spoke about Sirius' family, so perhaps he hadn't mentioned anything to avoid upsetting his friend.

"Ah, the prodigal son," a wheezing voice said, and Sirius turned towards the older woman approaching him.

"Aunt Lucretia," he said flatly. "How nice to see you."

"Don't take that tone with me, boy," she snapped. She was only in her fifties, but she looked so much older. She had always looked so much older than her actual age, in part because her hair had gone prematurely gray before Sirius was even born, and she had never bothered to change it. She was also deaf in one ear and spoke with a wheeze.

"What tone?" Sirius said sarcastically.

Lucretia glared at him. "You're lucky your mother and father even let you come to this wedding," she spat. "If I had my way…"

"_Let_ me?" Sirius sneered. "Do you really think I want to be here?"

"Then why are you here?" Lucretia demanded.

Sirius frowned. "I have no idea," he replied in what sounded quite a bit like a growl. "But it certainly isn't out of any desire to wish Narcissa and that insufferable arse she's marrying."

"You watch your language!" Lucretia wheezed, her eyes growing wide. One hand moved to her chest, and for a moment Sirius thought he might have given her a heart attack. But the other hand drew her wand from within the folds of her dress robes, and she pointed it at him threateningly.

He eyed the wand warily and slid his own hand into his pocket to retrieve his wand in case they suddenly started dueling.

"Lucretia! It is good to see you, sister."

Lucretia and Sirius both turned – one with an expression of satisfaction and the other an expression of disgust – to face the balding wizard who was quickly wrapping an arm around his sister and guiding her away from Sirius.

"Orion," Lucretia said, "I was just having words with your son."

"I hope he hasn't said anything to offend you," Orion said, giving Sirius a look of utter loathing.

"He's an ungrateful wretch," Lucretia said harshly. "He shouldn't even be here. He doesn't' belong in _our_ society."

"Indeed," Orion agreed, stilling leading Lucretia away. "But Walburga wanted to give him one more chance. You know how hard it is for a mother to turn away from her son."

"Oh, I don't think Mum had any problem with that," Sirius snapped.

Orion spun around to face Sirius. "You were only invited here because of your mother's goodwill," he said fiercely. "She wants to give you another chance to…"

"I don't _want_ another chance," Sirius interrupted, eyes blazing. "I don't want anything from any of you."

"We put a roof over your head. We fed you and clothed you and sent you to Hogwarts, expecting you to make us proud!" Orion snarled. "And this is how you repay us? By bringing shame to this family? You are a _disgrace_!"

The hall had gone quiet. All eyes were now focused on Sirius and Orion. Sirius could see his mother moving towards them, her face red with fury and embarrassment. Regulus had disappeared into the crowd again, although Eliza was easily visible standing near the raised platform, smirking coolly. Druella had joined Cygnus, and neither looked pleased by the commotion.

After all, it was their daughter's big day.

"I have no idea _how_ you turned out like this after all the effort your mother and I put into raising you the right way," Orion said.

"The right way?" Sirius questioned mockingly. "Is that what you call this?"

"We gave you plenty of opportunities to speak to Dumbledore and be reassigned to Slytherin," his mother said, joining his father and looking down at him with a severe gaze. "But you didn't. We have tried to be civil and understanding, but this has gone too far. Look at Regulus. _He_ has the right sort of friends."

"I don't think the his friends are the right sort," Sirius said sourly. "And don't pretend you care about me."

"If we didn't care about you, why would you give another chance to leave your Muggle-loving friends and the other filth you socialize with?"

Sirius wasn't sure if the second insult was a comment about Remus. He doubted anyone here knew Remus' status as a werewolf – how could they? – but he was still touchy on the subject. It was people like his parents and the rest of his family that made it so difficult for Remus to find a decent job.

"You don't care about me," he said in a low hiss, unable to keep the venom and disgust out of his voice. "You just don't want to be embarrassed in front of your friends. You don't want everyone to know that you _still_ have one son you can't bully into doing what you wanted. You don't want people to think your blood is getting dirty. Toujours Pur and all that rubbish."

He saw the movement, but didn't register what it was until he felt the sharp pain on his cheek. A Stinging Hex.

His mother was holding her wand out, and her grip on the thin piece of wood was so tight that her knuckles had turned white. Sirius lifted his hand to his face, gently resting the tips of his fingers on the welt he knew would be forming. He held his mother's gaze for a single, silent moment, then turned on his heel and strode out of the hall.

"If you leave now, don't you ever come back!" he heard his mother scream after him.

He paused in the doorway and looked at her coldly. "I shouldn't have come in the first place," he said, and then turned away from the families gathered behind him.

Regulus caught up with him as he stepped into the fresh air of outside and took a deep breath. It was a wonderful thing, he decided, to be out of the stagnant and musty air that seemed to always hover around his family. It was less wonderful, however, to have to deal with Regulus right now.

The younger Black sibling blocked Sirius' path and said, "You couldn't even last ten minutes. Couldn't be civil."

"Civil?" Sirius muttered in disbelief. "Mum hexed me."

Regulus narrowed his eyes, but he look definitely uneasy. Still, he said callously, "It is your own fault, given the way you were speaking to her. Did you really have to pick a fight with Aunt Lucretia? Couldn't you just swallow your bloody pride for…"

"My pride?" Sirius interrupted hotly. "What about the rest of you? Do you really think it isn't anything but misplaced pride and arrogance that makes you think you're so much better than everyone else?"

"I think it is centuries of traditions, customs, and pure blood that makes us better than the muck you run around with," Regulus retorted.

Sirius shook his head sadly. "It was bad enough when it was just our parents influencing you. But now that you've got that Greengrass girl to tell you what to do, too… Merlin, Reg, I don't even _know_ you anymore," he said, his tone filled with bitterness and regret.

Regulus stared at him for a long moment, then said, "Maybe you never did."

* * *

><p>"You're <em>stalking<em>, Prongs."

"I'm not stalking, per se. I just happen to be in the same place as Evans and Dearborn, and I can't help it if they are being so loud that I notice them."

Sirius rolled his eyes but didn't bother arguing the point. He was still fuming from his disastrous attempt at attending Narcissa's wedding, and didn't have the energy or patience to point out to James that, regardless of what he called it, he really was stalking Evans.

Of course, in James' defense, he hadn't followed Evans to Diagon Alley. He and Sirius had already been there, eating ice cream at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor when James had caught sight of Evans entering Sugarplum's Sweets Shop and had deiced to follow them.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at James and watched as his best friend stared at the redhead. To anyone else, it might have been creepy, but James was practically his brother, and he recognized that look in his friend's hazel eyes. It wasn't obsession; it was love.

He sighed.

"I just don't like that Reg is dating this Greengrass witch," he muttered under his breath, following James through the crowded shop. He had never been a fan of this particular confectioners store, but Evans and Dearborn both seemed to be having a good time, and that had clearly put James in a foul mood.

"You could always hex her," James suggested distractedly.

Sirius rolled his eyes again. "Don't think I haven't considered that," he said darkly. "And it would give me a certain amount of pleasure, I'll grant you that. But I don't think it will help Reg any. She'll sob about how horrible I am and he'll just get even more tangled in her web."

Evans bent down to inspect an assortment of brightly colored sugar quills. Dearborn said something to her, and she grinned in response.

"What does she see in him?" James demanded.

It wasn't the first time James had asked that question, and it wouldn't be the last.

Sirius frowned. "Did you listen to anything I just said?" he demanded.

James looked at him. "You don't like Greengrass. Eliza, right? Or is it her sister that your brother is dating?"

"No, it's Eliza," Sirius grumbled. "Which is too bad, because Calliope is actually tolerable. Sort of. Well, she's better than her sister, anyway." He ran a hand through his hair and then let it flop lazily into his eyes again. "You should have seen her, Prongs. She was watching everything with… with _glee_. She was ecstatic that my parents were disowning me again. It's like she had no regard at all for my family or…"

At this point, James said pointedly, "I thought they weren't your family anymore?"

Sirius frowned. "You're right," he said determinedly. "They're not. They don't matter, and I'm glad I brought shame onto all of them by refusing to be their good little boy. I've had enough of them."

Which still didn't adequately explain why he had gone to the wedding in the first place, or why that final argument with Regulus still bothered him. But he wasn't going to think about it. He was done with them, all of them.

His brother included.

He narrowed his eyes. "And if Reg wants to get himself involved with that… that _viper_… then fine."

James considered him silently for a moment, then turned his attention back to Evans and Dearborn. Sirius was pretty sure that James didn't believe his last statement, and he supposed he couldn't blame the other wizard; he didn't really believe it, either.

He suddenly caught a few words of Evans' conversation, and his argument with his family was forgotten as he, like James, focused on the redhead.

"…still frustrating. I mean, I know Remus and I were never really close, but I thought we were at least friendly. And now he won't tell me anything."

"Maybe his pride won't let him," Dearborn suggested, draping an arm lazily over Lily's shoulders. "Some people just can't accept help, even if you want to offer it."

"Bloody wanker," James muttered under his breath, and Sirius wasn't sure if the insult was because of Dearborn's comment about Remus or because of the way he was touching Evans.

Evans chewed her lip. "I think it is more than that," she said quietly, but didn't elaborate when Dearborn gave her a questioning look. Instead, she said, "Maybe you're right, though. Maybe he can't accept help. Doesn't mean I can't help him, though. I just have to do it secretly."

Dearborn laughed. "How are you going to manage that? You can't secretly get him a new job."

Evans smiled. "I have an idea," she answered enigmatically, but again, said nothing else even with Dearborn clearly waiting for her to explain.

They only stayed for a few more minutes, then Dearborn said something to Evans, kissed her quickly – which made James' eyes flash dangerously – and left the sweet shop. Evans remained behind, still staring at the sugar quills.

James started walking towards her.

Sirius caught his arm. "Prongs, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"I'm just going to talk to her," James said, shaking his arm loose. "Relax, Padfoot."

"I'm not sure that is such a good idea," Sirius said hesitantly. "I've seen you try to talk to Evans. It never ends well."

"Oh, bugger off," James retorted. "You're starting to sound like Moony."

And he walked determinedly over to Evans.

"Evans," James greeted, leaning against the counter, "picking out a sugar quill?"

The smile that had graced her features during the date with Dearborn faded slightly, and her eyes took on a guarded look as she replied, "Potter. What are you doing here?"

"Just fancied a treat," James replied, gesturing around him to the shelves filled with confections. "Saw you with Dearborn. On a date?"

"Yes," she answered simply.

James ruffled his hair, messing it up, and gave a cocky grin, "Bit boring, isn't he? No fun at all."

"Actually," Evans replied coldly, her eyes glittering with a strange anger, "I was having quite a bit of fun with him."

"Then why did he run out of here and leave you on your own?" James asked.

Evans frowned. "He had to get back to the Ministry."

"It's Saturday," Sirius said, slightly puzzled. He was watching Evans intently. She had reacted to James' words with a level of sourness and defensiveness that he didn't usually see, and he wondered vaguely what that meant.

"Yes, I know that, Black," Evans said, glancing disdainfully in Sirius' direction. "But they've given him a lot of responsibility, so he works a bit on weekends."

"We've only been out of Hogwarts for barely two weeks," James protested.

Evans stared at him. "Yes," she said dryly, "but some people are actually trying to do things with their lives instead of goofing off and playing stupid pranks."

"I'm planning on trying out for Wimbourne Wasps," James said quickly, messing up his hair again.

"Ah, yes… Quidditch," Evans said coolly, sarcastically. "It's good you're putting your considerable talents to something so useful."

James perked up. "You think I have considerable talents?"

Evans rolled her eyes. "Goodbye, Potter, Black," she said, nodding her head at both of them before pushing her way through the crowded shop towards the door.

"Hey, Evans, wait!" Sirius called out.

She paused and looked back expectantly, "Yes?"

"Whatever you're thinking of doing for Remus… don't," Sirius said. James looked at him, startled, but then nodded in agreement. Evans had no idea what she was getting into with this, and he didn't want her to do anything that could jeopardize what little privacy Remus had.

"You were eavesdropping on my conversation?" Evans demanded incredulously. "How long were you two stalking Caradoc and I?"

"We weren't _stalking_," James protested. "We just heard you mention Remus, and he's our friend, so we wanted to know what you were saying about him."

"And you don't want me to help your friend?" Evans asked curiously.

"Just leave him alone, Evans," Sirius said. "You're interfering can't do any good."

"You don't know that," Evans replied.

"And you don't know what you're dealing with!" Sirius snapped angrily.

Evans regarded him without any expression in her eyes, and it made Sirius a little uneasy to be unable to tell what she was thinking or how she was reacting to his comment. "Goodbye, Black," she said finally, and walked out of the store.

"Interfering know-it-all," Sirius muttered under his breath.

* * *

><p>Lily dropped the pile of books onto the kitchen table of her flat and called out, "Mary? Are you here?"<p>

"I'm here," Mary called back, and then appeared in the kitchen a moment later. She looked at the books Lily had deposited on the table, and her eyebrows rose. "Decided to get a little light reading done?" she asked sardonically.

Lily laughed and shook her head. "It's for my program," she replied. "I picked them up on my way back home from Diagon Alley."

"Ah, yes. On the date with Caradoc," Mary said, lips curving into a smirk. "And how was it?"

"The date?" Lily flushed. "It was fun," she said. "We just wandered around, talking." Her expression darkened as she added, "Then Potter and Black showed up after Caradoc had left. They tried to talk to me."

"They tried to talk to you?" Mary repeated in mock outrage. "Really? How _horrible_!"

Lily frowned. She knew her statement had sounded ridiculous, but with James, talking was never merely a pleasant conversation. She pulled out a chair and sat down, resting her elbows on the table, and said, "You know what he's like. He was so… arrogant. He kept messing up his hair. He called Caradoc boring!"

"Is he?" Mary asked.

"Is he what? Boring?" Lily clarified. When Mary nodded, she said firmly, "Of course not. He's good and sweet and kind and smart and…" Lily trailed off and didn't finish the statement, and Mary watched her intently.

Caradoc _was_ all of those things. And she liked him, a lot. He had gone into the Ministry right after Hogwarts, he took care of his family and watched out for his irresponsible brother, and he was dependable and stable. He was kind, and he was a good listener. He gave the impression of actually caring about everything she said, and he seemed to genuinely want to help her whenever she grew frustrated with anything.

Besides, his reaction to the way that the bookstore owner had treated Remus had clearly indicated just how little tolerance he had for bullying.

So why did James' words bother her so much? Why had his comment about Caradoc being boring gotten under her skin? Usually she was able to simply brush off whatever he said. In fact, the last time something he had done had upset her this much was back at the end of fifth year, after OWLS, and it hadn't been entirely his fault that the confrontation with Severus had ended so badly for her.

But he had called Caradoc boring and…

She forced herself to stop thinking about it. She didn't want to follow that train of thought to its conclusion, because she was fairly certain she knew where it would lead, and she didn't want to think about that right now. She was happy, so why sabotage anything?

"So when I asked you about the date, why did you immediately start talking about James?" Mary asked softly.

Lily raised an eyebrow and said with a huff, "He just annoys me. But you're right, let's not talk about him. Caradoc is a much more pleasant subject."

"Is he now?" Mary prompted. "Have you two snogged?"

Lily felt the heat rush to her face and knew she was turning bright red.

"You did!" Mary said gleefully. She dropped into the seat across from Lily. "Was he good?"

Lily turned, if possible, even more red. "Yes," she said quietly. "He was… he was _really_ good."

Mary smirked. "And?"

"And what?" Lily asked, brow furrowed.

"And what else did you do?"

"We just snogged, Mary! And even if we had done anything else, I wouldn't tell you about it!"

This time Mary laughed outright. "I meant, what else did you do in Diagon Alley?"

"Oh," Lily said, mortified. She took a moment to gather her composure again, then said, "Um… we went into Flourish and Blotts…"

"A bookstore. Why am I not surprised that that would be a part of your date? But didn't you go to one on your last date, too?"

"…and one of those Quidditch stores, I can't remember which. Caradoc wanted to look at the new Silver Arrow," Lily continued, ignoring Mary's statement. "And Sugarplum's Sweets Shop. And we had tea at this wretched new place called Teas and Tinctures. Don't go there. It was just terrible."

"And then you decided to check out an entire library," Mary said, gesturing to the books on the table.

Lily smiled happily. "I think I know what potion I want to study. Everyone else in the class is so passionate about whatever they are working on, and I originally thought that there just wasn't anything I cared about that much. But then I realized that I was wrong; there _is_ something that matters to me enough to focus on it for as long as is needed. The potion is only in its beginning stages at the moment, and the wizard working on it – Damocles Belby – is still mostly doing theory."

Mary picked up one of the books. "_Conversion Through Concoctions_," she read. "Alchemy?" she guessed, turning to Lily for confirmation.

"Not quite," Lily replied. "More along the lines of transformations."

Mary glanced at two more book titles. "_Psyche and Psychosis_. _Viva la Besia_?" She frowned at the second book. "This is all in Old English."

"Most of the theory I need for this is very old," Lily replied. "I'm just lucky I could find this one. A lot of the books are in Greek or Arabic, or even hieroglyphs. It's going to be a lot of work."

"You're the only one I know who could say that and sound so excited about it," Mary said, shaking her head. She rose to her feet. "Well, enjoy your studying. I, for one, am going to avoid reading anything in Old English until I absolutely have to. Which will hopefully be never."

Lily watched as Mary left the kitchen, then looked at the books in front of her. She knew that James had told her to stop whatever she was doing, but she couldn't figure out how her plans could backfire. Besides, James was an idiot if he thought she didn't know exactly what was going on with Remus. Honestly, did he think he was the only one who ever looked at a lunar calendar and figured things out?

She pulled out the last book in the pile. It was the smallest, with only a few pages, and as far as she knew, it was the only book published about the possibility of this potion. The idea had been talked about, of course. It had been talked about for centuries, and most of the talk had focused on the necessity of basing the potion around aconite. But no one had gotten any further than basic theory.

She hoped to change that.

She stared at the title of the book for a moment.

_Wolfsbane_.


	5. What Bugs Me

Chapter Five: What Bugs Me

The Wimbourne Wasps did not look like the fearsome team James knew they were. The two witches on the team – Seeker Carlotta Prewitt and Keeper Daphne Dumare – were both short and thin and just all around small. Prewitt had long blonde hair that was currently cascading over her shoulders and down her back, and was batting dark eyelashes at every single wizard around her, a suggestive smirk on her features. Dumare had much shorter hair, and it was pulled up in a ponytail, giving her at least a more sporty appearance than her female teammate. But she was smaller, too. James doubted she even came up to his shoulders.

Another Chaser - Jimmy Wilkinson, who was trying to ignore Prewitt's blatant attempts to get his attention – and the two Beaters – Glycon Price and Ludo Bagman – were talking in low whispers. They all looked a bit more fierce than their female counterparts, but Wilkinson had a rather oafish expression on his features, and Price and Bagman both burst into laughter at random moments and shoved each other around like two six-year-olds.

The captain was the only one who looked even remotely intimidating. Chaser Edgar Shaw was in his mid-thirties and had a thick build, narrow dark eyes, and dark brown hair worn in a very short crew cut. He stood in front of stands at the Quidditch pitch, surveying everyone who had come to try out for his team. He had a shrewd look in his eyes, as though he was already assessing them before he had even seen them fly.

James looked around at his competition. There were fourteen people. Three witches and eleven wizards. James was by far the youngest, but the oldest didn't seem to be more than thirty. He recognized one or two from Hogwarts, and remembered vaguely playing against them in various games.

He was going to have some stiff competition.

"Alright, listen up," Shaw said, clapping his hands together loudly and drawing all attention back to him. "Welcome to the Wimbourne Wasps' Quidditch tryouts. My name is Edgar Shaw and I am the captain of this team." He stern gaze swept over all of them. "But I expect you already know that."

James nodded, and around him, several others did likewise.

"Now, we have one position open on the team," Shaw continued. "Hespera Sabine had an… unfortunate accident… and will no longer be able to play with us, so we are looking for a Chaser."

James grinned to himself. Sabine had taken a Bludger to the head in the final match of the season and woken up in St. Mungo's with no memory of who she was. She had apparently taken that as a sign that she should start her life over with a fresh slate, and within two days of being released from St. Mungo's, she had run off with the Seeker for Puddlemore United.

There was some speculation that this had been a set up by Shaw. Sabine had been a good Chaser, but not a phenomenal one, and she could be replaced. Puddlemore United's Seeker was widely accepted as the best England had seen in over a century, and thanks to Sabine, he was no longer playing Quidditch.

Puddlemore United was now no longer considered a shoe-in to win the British and Irish Quidditch League Cup.

"We also have positions open for a reserve Chaser and Beater," Shaw continued. "Now, as a general rule, I don't take anyone for a starting position if they haven't already played reserve on my team. However, since Hespera's departure was rather unexpected, I have decided to allow all of you to play for the open starting Chaser position. But keep in mind, you will be playing against the reserve Chaser I already have on my team."

He gestured with one hand, and everyone turned to look at the wizard who seemed to have magically appeared at the edge of the stands. Harold Wilde, the reserve Chaser.

James frowned. He had no doubt that the starting position would go to Wilde. No matter what Shaw said about opening up tryouts to everyone, he would still pick Wilde in the end. The man already knew how to play with the others on the team, and was comfortable with them. No captain in his right mind would trade that in for a newcomer.

But that left two reserve Chaser positions open.

And James was determined to get one of them.

"Alright. Everyone who wants to try out for Beater, go stand next to Bagman and Price. The rest of you, stand up and get your broom."

A few people wandered over to the two Beaters, but the majority seemed to want to play Chaser. Or maybe they had simply decided that, since there were two Chaser positions open, they had a greater chance of being picked for one of those than for the Beater position.

James picked up his broom and felt a thrill of excitement run through him.

Shaw looked down at the list of names he was holding in one hand. "Morison, Nickerson, Potter. You three, in the air, now. Daphne, you're playing Keeper. Ludo and…" he consulted his list again for a moment, "Morta, you two are Beaters." He pointed at Morison, Nickerson, and James. "You three, try to score. Try to work as a team. Daphne will play Keeper against you." He turned towards Morta. "You try to prevent the three Chasers from scoring. Ludo and Daphne are on your team. I'll be watching and taking notes. Everyone understand?"

Everyone nodded.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Shaw demanded. "_Fly_!"

James didn't hesitate. He jumped on his broom and took off, feeling the wind whip through his hair. The usual feeling of euphoria filled him as he did a few experimental loops on the broom. The other two hopefuls were next to him moments later, and then Shaw had tossed the Quaffle towards then and released the Bludgers, and the scrimmage was on.

James had played against Morison before. He had been in Ravenclaw, a couple years ahead of James, and he had been good. He was good, now, too. He caught the Quaffle with ease and started flying towards the goals. He aimed for what look like an easy goal, but then Dumare was suddenly there, blocking his toss.

Morison cursed, and James dove for the Quaffle.

A Bludger flew by his ear, and he twisted away, losing the Quaffle in the process. He heard Morison yelling something at him – something, he was fairly certain, that wasn't complementary – and spun around in midair to glare at the Slytherin.

Nickerson caught the Quaffle.

Dumare flew at him, and he tossed it to James. James caught it easily and flew towards the goal, Dumare chasing him. He had no idea how she managed to fly that quickly, but she was suddenly in front of him, cutting him off, and he had to swerve to avoid her.

With Dumare blocking the goal and Bagman sending another Beater his way, James had no choice. He quickly gave up on the idea of scoring himself and tossed the Quaffle to Morison.

Morison knocked it into the goal, then pumped his fist in the air to celebrate scoring.

"Bloody git," James muttered under his breath.

Down below, Shaw was taking notes.

Nickerson caught the Quaffle and tossed it to James. A Bludger knocked it off course and Morison grabbed it. He turned around to throw it towards the goal, but Morta was in his way. Dumare was hovering in front of the three goals, but James had an unobstructed path to the one on the right. If Morison passed him the Quaffle now, he could score.

He looked at Morison, who had clearly reached the same conclusion James had, and waited for the inevitable toss of the Quaffle.

It didn't come.

Instead, Morison executed a very complicated dive-and-twist maneuver that sent him shooting under Morta and narrowly avoiding the Bludger Bagman sent at him. This brought him just level with Dumare. The goal on his right was slightly unblocked, and he feinted that way. Dumare matched him, assuming he was going to take the shot, but he jerked his broom away at the last minute and flung the Quaffle towards the left goal.

He scored.

James' jaw dropped. That was _incredible_ flying.

Granted, it wasn't a full game. There were only six people in the air, and the three Chasers were the only ones even trying to score. But still…

Morison was _good_.

Morison pumped his fist in the air again.

Nickerson fumbled the Quaffle, and James caught it. A well placed Bludger from Morta blocked his attempt to score. Another Bludger hit him in the gut and nearly knocked him from his broom. He dropped the Quaffle, but recovered quickly and went darting after it.

So did Morison.

But James was closer, so there was no reason for the other Chaser to even bother. Still, Morison didn't let up until James had gotten his hands on the ball, and then Morison looked sour.

"We're on the same bloody team!" James yelled at him before passing the ball to Nickerson. Nickerson took a shot, but Dumare blocked it. Morison caught the rebound and took a shot, but Morta just barely managed to knock a Bludger into its path, and the Quaffle went spinning in the wrong direction.

Morta was good, too.

Nickerson caught the Quaffle and passed it to James, but Dumare intercepted. James snatched it back from her, and Bagman sent a Bludger at him. He dodged the Bludger and tossed the Quaffle to Nickerson. Nickerson tossed it to Morison, who somehow managed to grab and swing around on his broom to dodge a Bludger at the same time. James started streaking towards the goal posts, knowing that if Morison passed the Quaffle to him now, Dumare wasn't close enough to prevent the goal.

Morison didn't pass the Quaffle to him. He took the shot himself, but it was blocked by Bagman.

James swore under his breath. If Morison never passed the Quaffle to him, how was he supposed to show that he was good enough to play on the team?

Nickerson caught the Quaffle and flew towards the goals. Dumare was in his way, so he passed it to James. James caught it and raced towards the middle goal, determined to score, but Dumare caught up with him. He could take the shot, but he'd most likely miss. Morison had a clear path, though…

James cursed inwardly.

It was a bloody _team_ sport. He passed the ball to Morison, and Morison scored.

Shaw called and end to the scrimmage and gestured for everyone to land. The next set of hopefuls rotated to the pitch, and soon the next scrimmage was going.

Morison was grinning as he approached James. He'd scored all three goals, after all. He had a reason to be happy, anyone who had seen him fly would know just how good of a player he was. He was going to get one of the reserve spots for sure.

"Tough luck, Potter," Morison said in a thoroughly unsympathetic tone. "Maybe next time."

James glowered at him.

The rest of tryouts passed uneventfully. Shaw ran them through a series of drills after the scrimmage, making them pass the Quaffle to each other and take individual shots on the Keeper. James felt as though he did much better there, but he wasn't sure that it would make up for the scrimmage.

Then Shaw called them all to order, and they sat on the benches in the stand once more. "Alright," he said in a gruff voice, "I have a few notes for each of you. Aevol, you need to improve your speed a bit. Good catching, and you had a few nice goals there, but Daphne flew circles around you. I'm sorry you didn't make the team this time, but thanks for trying out."

James zoned out. Shaw's voice washed over him, but he was too busy feeling frustrated with himself. He knew he'd played well, but he hadn't played spectacularly. He hadn't shown just how amazing he was at this sport. He wanted another chance.

He was a Potter, after all. He wasn't supposed to fail at things.

Then he heard Shaw call Morison's name, and he looked up reluctantly, not wanting to see the arrogant prat given a spot on the team.

"Morison," Shaw said, "good flying. Actually, some of the best flying I've seen in a new recruit in a very long time." Morison was smirking at the praise, and the others on the benches around him were grumbling to themselves. They had all seen him fly, they had all watched him pull off a few spectacular moves.

Clearly, James and Morison weren't the only two who assumed he would get the position.

But Shaw's expression was somber. "But I don't want men who are just good fliers," he continued. "You had two opportunities to pass the Quaffle to Potter, and you didn't. He had clear shots on the goal, and I know you saw that. Now, you did score one of those times, and I have to admit, the way you got around both Daphne and Morta was impressive. But this is a team sport, and the team is what matters. Not your own personal glory. You didn't need to pull a stunt like that for the team to score. You only needed to pass to Potter."

James held his breath, not even daring to believe that this was happening. Was Morison really getting lectured on a lack of team sportsmanship?

Morison looked furious.

"I _want_ good fliers," Shaw finished, "but I _need_ team players. You aren't one. You didn't make the team."

Morison gaped. He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to come up with a suitable reply to that. But Shaw wasn't even looking at him, anyway. He had been dismissed, and Shaw was now moving on to the next name of the list.

"Morta, good job. Nice work with the Bludger. You need practice holding the bat in your left hand instead of relying on your right all the time. You didn't make the team this time, but try out again next year. You've got talent and promise, I can see that." He lifted his eyes from the list and looked at Morta. "And these aren't empty words. I'm not just being nice. I want to see you back next year."

Morta nodded and smiled.

"Potter." Shaw looked at him. "You were in the same year as my baby sister. Lizbeth Shaw. She was in Ravenclaw."

James nodded. "I know her. We were partnered in Herbology a few times. I think I spilled bubotubor pus on her once."

Why was he telling Shaw this? Why was he telling _anyone_ this? It hadn't been one of his finer moments. It hadn't even been a prank. He'd just been careless and clumsy and Lizbeth had gone to the Hospital Wing with boils all over her hands.

"She told me you were an arrogant prat," Shaw continued.

"Uh…"

"And you might be one. I don't have room for arrogance on my team. But I saw your expression when you realized Morison had a clear shot on the goal for that last one. I saw how much you wanted to score. And I saw you pass the Quaffle to him instead."

James shrugged. "Team sport and all that," he said.

"I can see you have natural talent. You played well today, but I think you can play better." He gave Morison a derisive look and added, "If you're given an actual team – one that plays _with_ you and not just _next_ to you – I think you can do well. And like I said… I need team players. So I'm giving you an actual team and a chance to prove just how good you are."

James held his brother, not even daring to hope.

"Congratulations, Potter," Shaw said. "You've just made reserve Chaser."

* * *

><p>When Emma approached Lily's work station with a look of concern on her face, Lily immediately set down the knife she was using to crush ligonberries and waited expectantly for Emma to say what was bothering her.<p>

It took the raven-haired witch a moment to put her thoughts into order, then she said in a low voice, "I saw the books you brought in, Lily. Wolfsbane? Are you really…?" She trailed off for a moment, then shook her head and asked, "Are you really trying to make Wolfsbane potion?"

Lily nodded, not understanding why Emma seemed so upset. "It's complicated, I know. And the theory isn't past the beginning stages, so it isn't like I am hoping to master it over the summer. But if I can make some headway on it, maybe contribute a few potential ingredients…" She paused at Emma's look of disdain. "What?" she demanded.

"You can't really think a _potion_ is going to make a werewolf _not_ a monster," Emma said flatly.

"A werewolf isn't a monster!" Lily hissed, flushing angrily. "Werewolves are human beings, Emma, that just happen to be afflicted with a curse. It's no different than being sick."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Most people, when they're sick, don't tear someone else to shreds," she said sarcastically.

"They can't help it!" Lily snapped, frowning at her new friend. She was used to hearing this kind of bigotry, but she was surprised that it was coming from someone she liked so well. Emma had seemed to hold much more enlightened views in their previous conversations, and yet now she was spouting anti-werewolf propaganda.

Emma was frowning as well. "The wolf is a monster. You can argue all you want about the person being normal and human, but the wolf is not."

"So what? Does that mean we shouldn't try to help them just because once a month they turn into something…"

"Dark and dangerous?" Emma cut in.

Lily was vaguely aware that her argument with Emma had caught the attention of several of the other apprentices, including Eliza and Fenwick. The Slytherin was too far away to hear what Lily and Emma were saying to each other, but Fenwick was close enough, and he had put down his own ingredients and was standing completely still. He wasn't looking at them, but the fact that he wasn't working on his potion was enough of an indication that he was listening to the conversation, too.

Lily narrowed her eyes at Emma and pushed thoughts of Fenwick and the other listening apprentices away. "I thought you were more open-minded than this," she said coolly.

"Merlin, Lily, have you ever _seen_ a werewolf?"

Lily folded her arms over her chest. "What if I have?"

Emma studied her for a long moment, then said, "The wolf, Lily. Not the person, the _wolf_. Have you ever seen a werewolf during a full moon?"

Lily didn't answer. What was the point? _No one_ saw a werewolf during a full moon. At least, no one saw one and walked away from the encounter in one piece.

And wasn't that Emma's point? That once a month, a normal person became a monster? That no one could get close to a werewolf without ending up bitten, or worse?

But what if that could be changed?

Lily looked down at the books on her table. "This is the potion I've chosen to investigate," she said firmly, refusing to back down.

Emma shook her head. "Do what you want, Lily. But I'm telling you, this potion hasn't been invented because it _can't_ be. A werewolf is a monster. You can't change that. The best you can do is lock them in a room once a month and then bandage them up once the sun has risen again."

"Funny," Lily said viciously, "that sounds like something Eliza Greengrass would say."

Emma jerked back as though Lily had slapped her. Her eyes widened briefly, and then her expression lost all emotion. She gave Lily one long, blank look, then walked to her own work station.

Lily looked away from Emma and caught Fenwick staring at her. He held her gaze for a beat and then started working on his potion once more.

They passed the rest of the day in silence.

* * *

><p>Alice was literally bouncing with excitement.<p>

She was only just eighteen, and she knew that made her far too young to be thinking so seriously about the future, but she couldn't help it. She had known from the moment Frank fished the small lack box out of his pocket and opened the lid that this was everything she had ever wanted. It was going to be wonderful. Her life was going to perfect.

Now if only she could get Lily to listen to a single word she was saying.

"Lily? Lils?"

The redhead was clearly preoccupied with other thoughts, and normally that wouldn't have bothered Alice, but this was different. Frank had proposed, and she wanted to share the news with the people closest to her.

"Yes, yes… you went out with Frank," Lily said distractedly. "Wonderful. Did you have a good time?"

They were sitting in the tiny living room of the flat Lily and Mary shared. But Mary wasn't there, and that was a little bit discouraging. She, at least, could be counted on to listen to Alice's tale and squeal excitedly at all the right parts. Instead, it was just Lily, and she was flipping through the pages of one of her potions books, carefully studying the text.

Alice rubbed her eyes. "It was nice, Lily, but that's not all I said. Frank and I went to this nice little restaurant in Godric's Hollow and…"

She stopped. Lily clearly wasn't listening anymore.

"And then we were attacked by dragons and I was carried away to be the hapless bride of the dragon king."

"That sounds nice," Lily murmured.

Alice raised an eyebrow. "I escaped, though. Some mermaids carried me across the ocean to Canada. I'm thinking of moving there. Nova Scotia is a very nice place."

"Yes, yes… it is."

"Then I shagged Potter."

Lily's head snapped up from her book and she looked at Alice with wide eyes. "You did _what_?"

Alice smirked. "I knew that would get your attention," she said, her light eyes filled with laughter. "Any mention of Potter always does."

Lily looked at a loss for words, but then managed to ask, "You _slept_ with Potter?"

"Of course not," Alice replied dismissively. "But I'm trying to tell you about the most amazing day of my life, and you're not even listening."

Lily sighed. "I'm sorry, Alice," she said regretfully. "I'm really not trying to ignore you, I've just had a really frustrating day."

Alice was instantly concerned. Although Lily had expressed her reservations about her ability to succeed in her potions program in the past, she had still been enthusiastic about it. It was a bit disturbing to see her look so distraught now. Leaning forward, Alice asked, "Why? What happened?"

But Lily shook her head. "No. You tell me about your day first, and then I'll tell you about mine." She grinned and added, "And I promise to actually listen this time."

"Frank proposed."

"He _what_?" Lily's expression flashed between dumfounded surprise and girlish excitement, and then she launched herself out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Alice in a tight hug. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I've been _trying_ to tell you for the past ten minutes," Alice protested, giggling.

Lily broke the hug and drew back, her face suddenly serious. "You're eighteen. You are far too young to get married."

"I know," Alice agreed. "But I'm in love with Frank, and I have been for the last two years. He's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Eighteen was too young. She had her entire life ahead of her, and she hadn't yet figured out what she wanted to do for a career, so how could she think of settling down and starting a family? That was what her parents had said, too, but then they had smiled and told her how happy they were that she had found someone that she loved.

She looked down at her hand, twisting the silver band on her ring finger. It wasn't flashy or expensive. It had no diamonds, no emeralds or sapphires. It didn't look like an engagement ring.

But it was simple and elegant and a significant reminder of how well Frank knew what she did and didn't like.

She looked up at Lily, and felt as though she was glowing with joy. Being with Frank was fun and easy and comfortable. Why couldn't everyone in the world be this content with their life?

"I really love him," she said.

Lily squeezed her shoulder. "I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," Alice said, and briefly hugged Lily again. "Now tell me about your problems."

Lily grimaced and sat back down in her armchair. "I told you that Emmaline Vance is in the potions program, right?"

"The Ravenclaw," Alice said with a nod. "You mentioned it. You said she was really nice and you thought the two of you would be good friends."

"I think I might have been wrong about that," Lily muttered.

"Oh?" Alice prompted.

"I picked a potion," Lily explained. "I want to work on the Wolfsbane potion."

"That exists?" Alice asked in surprise. "I thought it was just a myth. When we learned about werewolves in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Malin never mentioned anything about their being a working potion…"

"The theory is all pretty basic at the moment," Lily replied. "And I don't know… I'm not sure I'll even get anywhere with it, but I want to at least try."

"So what's the problem?"

Lily frowned and closed her eyes for a moment as though she was remembering something. Then she said in a barely audible tone, "Emma thought it was a bad idea. She doesn't believe in helping werewolves. She thinks they're monsters, and that no potion can change that. She said we should just lock them in a room at every full moon. She sounded just like Greengrass."

Alice pursed her lips. "Eliza Greengrass?" she asked, the name conjuring up memories of a blonde Slytherin that she had never been able to stand at Hogwarts.

Lily nodded.

Alice was quiet for a moment, then she asked tentatively, "Is Vance a pureblood?"

Lily nodded again, then said, "But I didn't think she was _that_ kind of pureblood."

Alice chewed her lip. "Is she?"

"Is she what?"

"Is she really that kind of pureblood?" Alice pressed. Lily looked at her in shock, her expression clearly stating that she had no idea how Alice could be asking such a question, and Alice continued, "What exactly did she say to you?"

Lily closed her eyes again, then said as though she was reciting a remembered conversation word-for-word, "You can't really think a potion is going to make a werewolf not a monster. Most people, when they're sick, don't tear someone else to shreds. The wolf is a monster. You can argue all you want about the person being normal and human, but the wolf is not."

Alice raised both eyebrows. "You remembered that verbatim?"

Lily gave a half-hearted shrug. "It was bugging me all day. I kept replaying the conversation over and over in my mind, trying to think about her words, trying to figure out… trying to figure out how I could have misjudged her so badly." She rubbed her eyes. "She told me that I could work on this if I wanted, but that the Wolfsbane potion hadn't been invented because it wasn't possible to turn a werewolf into something besides a monster. That we should just lock them up once a month and then fix their injuries the next day."

She looked so incredibly depressed that Alice actually debated not saying anything. She wasn't sure she could convince Lily that the things Vance had said weren't actually as bad as Lily was making them out to be, but she also didn't think it would help matters any to merely agree that Vance was a bigoted pureblood and leave it at that.

She ran a hand through her hair and wished vaguely for Mary. A distraction would be useful at the moment.

"I was just so angry at her," Lily murmured.

"Lily… if I saw something, will you promise not to bite my head off?"

Lily looked startled, but nodded, though her expression was a bit wary.

"She didn't say anything that was really so bad."

"_What_? How can you say that? How can you even _think_ that?"

"You promised not to bite my head off!"

Lily glowered, but was silent, allowing Alice to explain her comment.

"She said that a werewolf is a monster. Not the human, Lils, but the _wolf_. And the wolf _is_ a monster. Once a month, that thing had no conscious and a bloodlust that makes it an incredible threat."

"That's why we have to _help_ them! Not just leave them to tear themselves to bits…" Lily looked pale and upset, and she took a few shaky breaths to calm herself before saying, "Did you know that if a werewolf doesn't have a victim to attack it turns on itself? It bites and claws itself, tears its skin, draws blood."

Alice wondered how Lily knew that, but decided not to ask. Instead, she pointed out, "And you know what Vance said? She said that what we should do is lock a werewolf in a room once a month and then fix the injuries the next day." Lily looked at her as though she couldn't understand why this was a good thing, and Alice said, "You know Eliza Greengrass would have said? That we should throw werewolves into Azkaban forever. That we should kill them. That we should prevent them from ever holding employment, from getting an education, from being a part of society. And you know what she definitely _wouldn't_ have said? That we should treat their injuries the morning after."

Lily was quiet, contemplating this. Then she said in a low voice, "She thinks it is a waste of time to work on the potion."

"It might be."

"I know that," Lily agreed. "But that doesn't mean you shouldn't _try_. Don't you see, Alice? Maybe saying that we shouldn't waste time trying to make this potion because werewolves can't be cured isn't as bad as saying that werewolves shouldn't be allowed in our society at all, but it _is_ a form of discrimination. And it is an insidious one, because it is so small and so subtle. But what other conditions do we not even bother trying to cure? What other groups of people do we condemn to be stuck with a curse beyond their control just because trying to help them seems too difficult? Why is it okay to give up on werewolves when we fight for everyone else?"

Alice considered this, then nodded slowly. "I understand your point," she agreed. "But did you _tell_ Vance that? Did you tell her how you felt? Or did you just get mad at her and lash out?"

Lily flushed, and Alice saw the shame and regret creep into her eyes even as she averted her gaze from Alice's frank stare. "You're right," she said.

"I usually am," Alice answered with a light smile. Lily rolled her eyes, and Alice added, "Look, you do have a point. What Vance said was wrong… sort of. But she isn't like Greengrass or any of the other Slytherins. And I bet if you just explained your opinion to her – calmly and rationally – she might actually agree. You just need to keep in mind that she is a pureblood and she was raised in this world, and that means that she has been exposed to certain commonly held beliefs from a young age. And one of those beliefs…"

"Is that lycanthropy can't be cured," Lily finished for her.

* * *

><p>"You said the person wasn't the monster."<p>

Emma looked up, eyes slightly cool and not particularly friendly, and Lily winced inwardly. She had been called self-righteous and temperamental on more than one occasion, and she had been called both of those insults by her own friends. She'd stopped denying it after the end of fifth year because some part of her had known that – on occasion – she was both of those things.

It had never really impacted her friendships. Mary and Alice had their faults as well, and seemed more than willing to put up with hers.

But Emma clearly didn't want to merely forget their argument.

Lily cleared her throat. "I… shouldn't have reacted the way I did. What you said… I do disagree with it, but you weren't… you could distinguish between a person and a monster and I… I shouldn't have compared you to… well…" Her eyes darted sideways towards Eliza Greengrass' station and settled for a moment on the blonde witch.

She chewed her lip and looked back at Emma. At least the other girl's stare didn't look quite as unfriendly as it had a moment ago.

"The thing is… we don't just give up on other people. Maybe lycanthropy can't be cured. I don't know. I'm not sure anyone knows. But it _is_ an illness and we don't give up on trying to cure other illnesses, not even the ones we believe are incurable."

Emma frowned. "It's a waste of time," she said.

"How is trying to help someone ever a waste of time?" Lily countered.

"You have to pick your battles," Emma answered. "You're a brilliant potioneer Lily. You must be, or you wouldn't be in this program. But putting your time, effort, and energy into this… it means you're _not_ working on something else. Something else that might need a cure. There are plenty of diseases out there…"

"The plague you're working on," Lily said, "it's not common, is it? Not as common as lycanthropy. And certainly not that common in England or even most of Europe. Right?"

"Right," Emma agreed slowly, clearly unsure where this part of the conversation was going.

"Well, isn't it a waste of your time and effort, then, to be focusing on such a rare disease? There are other diseases out there that affect more people, that kill more people. If the only thing that matters is helping the most people, shouldn't you put your energy into those?"

Emma stiffened. "That's… this is different," she said sharply.

"Why? Because this matters to you?" Lily questioned. Emma hesitated, then nodded slowly, and Lily pressed on, "Well, lycanthropy matters to me. This is what I believe in, this is what I want to fight."

Emma let out a long breath. "Fine," she said at last. "If it is what you want to do…"

"It is," Lily said emphatically. "You said I needed a potion I feel strongly about, that I'm passionate about. Well, this is something that matter to me."

Emma nodded again, then asked, "Is it the potion that matters to you specifically, or just the fact that it is a way to fight bigotry?"

Lily raised her eyebrows, surprised by the perceptiveness of the question, then answered honestly, "Both." Emma inclined her head, indicating that she accepted the answer, and Lily was glad that she didn't press for any details as to exactly why curing lycanthropy mattered so much.

She couldn't share Remus' secret with anyone, particularly not someone that she'd only known for a few weeks. Even if she did trust Emma.

"And I really… I really didn't mean to compare you to her," Lily added, jerking her head in Eliza's direction. "I was just angry and… and sometimes when I get angry I say things I regret later. I know you aren't like her. And I shouldn't have…"

"Don't worry about it," Emma said when Lily trailed off, unsure how to finish her apology.

The redhead turned away and moved towards her own workstation, but Emma called her back.

"Lily… There are people out there who think this potion is a waste of time because they believe the person is the monster. Or, at least, that there is no difference between the person and the wolf." She paused for a moment, twisting a few strands of dark hair around two of her fingers and regarding Lily with a serious expression in her gaze. "There are people who won't be happy that you're doing this."

"I know," Lily said simply.

Emma frowned, then shook her head. "I don't really think you do," she said. "This isn't Hogwarts. Things are different here. We're not protected the same way we were at that school and… just don't be surprised if you find yourself encountering a lot of… unexpected… obstacles."

Lily accepted this in silence, feeling rather unsettled by the warning.


	6. Is That You Believe What You're Saying

AN: So sorry for the delay. Got caught up in real life stuff, but now I'm back and will have more frequent updates.

* * *

><p>Chapter Six: Is That You Believe What You're Saying<p>

Lily glanced up from her cauldron as Healer Lanwick approached her. The gaunt witch's eyes were narrowed in displeasure, and her lips were pursed into a thin line as she studied Lily's work.

"What is that?" she asked coolly, nodding towards the cauldron.

Lily glanced down at her potion – or, at least, what could possibly some day become an actual potion. She said a bit quickly, her words rushing together in nervousness, "Damocles Belby suggested the use of silverweed, but I actually think fluxweed would be better. Its properties make the potion a bit more volatile, but it works well enough in the Polyjuice Potion. Which I know isn't the same thing, of course, but both potions have to do with transformation… sort of. I mean, well… even if it doesn't work, I just figured I'd see…"

She trailed off as Healer Lanwick continued staring at her in silence. Her expression had changed from displeasure to disgust. For a moment that confused Lily, but then she felt someone watching her, and glanced over in time to see Emma meet her gaze for just a second before looking away. The redhead had a sudden sinking suspicion that she knew _exactly_ what had Healer Lanwick so unhappy, and the Healer confirmed her thoughts.

"So it is true, then?" the Healer said. "You're working on the Wolfsbane Potion?" She folded her arms over her chest and regarded Lily, waiting for an answer.

Lily saw Eliza watching her out of the corner of her eye. The blonde was smirking.

"Yes," Lily said firmly. "Belby believes…"

"Damocles Belby is a fool," Healer Lanwick interrupted. "No one has made any progress on this potion ever, and Damocles won't, either."

"Professor Slughorn said that Potioneer Belby was an outstanding student, and he certainly received quite a bit of acclaim after leaving Hogwarts. He was one of the youngest people to ever…"

"Pick a different potion, Ms. Evans," Healer interrupted. "Neither St. Mungo's nor the Ministry will not support this waste of time and effort. You are here to learn, not engage is such pointless endeavors."

"This potion is not impossible," Lily argued swiftly. "A lot of the theory is actually quite sound, even if it is in the beginning stages. I even found a book written by Meditrina Aesculapius. She was a second century Roman Healer…"

"I know who she was, Ms. Evans."

"Oh… right. Well, anyway, I found a book she had written about retaining mental clarity. You know her specialty was mental disorders caused by spell damage… well, I mean, _of course_ you know that because you know who she was and you're a Healer and she was famous." Lily winced and wanted to kick herself for rambling on, but she was _still_ nervous and she didn't like the way Healer Lanwick was looking at her. So she continued, "She had a lot of ideas that I think could really make a difference in this potion."

"Even Belby hasn't worked on this potion for a long time, Ms. Evans," Healer Lanwick said, again interrupting Lily. "His theory is stalled."

"Isn't the point of this program to work on potions that show promise but haven't been mastered yet?" Lily questioned, raising her chin in defiance. "I know this is going to be difficult and I won't actually finish the potion by the end of the summer, but if I make enough progress on the potion then maybe I can apprentice with Damocles Belby because I am sure he's still interested in this and…"

"He stopped researching the potion for a reason," Healer Lanwick snapped. "He had enough common sense to…"

"I thought you said he was a fool?" Lily retorted, eyebrows raised.

"Lily!" she heard Emma hiss, and knew that she was making a mistake. It was incredibly reckless and stupid to be arguing with the Healer like this, and she was likely sabotaging her chances of succeeding in this program. But she couldn't make herself stop.

"I want to help people," she said angrily. "This potion will do that."

"You can't tame a werewolf," the Healer said firmly.

And Lily realized that her original assessment of Healer Lanwick hadn't been accurate – she wasn't anything like Professor McGonagall. She had the same stern look, and she wore her hair in the same tight bun, and she was clearly just as intelligent, but the transfiguration professor had never spoken of werewolves with such loathing in her tone.

Lily assumed that she had known exactly what Remus was. In fact, she assumed that all of the professors at Hogwarts had known about Remus' condition. And while some of them had stared at the unfortunate student with barely concealed fear or repulsion, Professor McGonagall had always treated Remus fairly.

After all, Heads of Houses were the ones to choose prefects each year, and Remus had been the Gryffindor prefect since fifth year.

"I'm not trying to tame werewolves," she said finally, brushing a few strands of red hair out of her eyes and noticing with growing unease that the entire class had stopped to watch the argument. "I'm trying to help them. I'm trying to save them from having to undergo…"

"Save them? _Save_ them?" Healer Lanwick echoed incredulously. "They are not the ones who need saving. It is the rest of us, the potential victims…"

"They were victims, too!" Lily spat. "They weren't always werewolves you know. Before they were bitten, they were just like the rest of us."

"What they were is unimportant," the Healer answered icily.

"This potion would protect us, too," Lily continued. "If werewolves can keep their minds when they transform, they won't attack us…"

"How do you know that?" Healer Lanwick demanded, her cheeks flushing slightly as she glared at Lily. "What makes you think that those monsters won't be just a blood-thirsty with the potion as they were before it? Who cares if they keep their mind when they transform? They're _werewolves_."

"The human isn't the monster! The wolf is, and…"

"You have no idea what you are talking about, Ms. Evans!"

Something inside Lily snapped. "Neither do you! They are people, too, and you can't treat them like they are inherently evil!"

"Lily," Emma hissed again, a warning clear in her tone.

Eliza Greengrass snickered.

Healer Lanwick took a deep breath and said in a tone of forced calm, "You will not succeed at this potion."

"It doesn't hurt to _try_!"

"You won't be selected to proceed to the next stage of this program," the Healer said. "Not with the Wolfsbane Potion."

"Even if I make great progress on it?" Lily demanded. "Even if I deserve it?"

"You wouldn't understand," Healer Lanwick answered. "You're a Muggleborn, your only experience with our world is Hogwarts. Things are different here, and you simply do not seem to be able to grasp that."

Lily's temper flared, anger surging in her chest at the incredible arrogance and unfairness in those words. But before she could say anything, before she could argue the point, Healer Lanwick, turned and swept away, moving through the classroom to another workstation.

Lily bit her tongue, holding back the response she wanted to yell at the Healer. How could a Healer – someone who had taken an oath to help people – be so adamant that working on this potion was wrong?

"Lily, cool it," Emma whispered urgently. "You don't want to argue with her."

"She's wrong," Lily snapped back.

"Maybe," Benjy Fenwick said, joining the conversation suddenly, and Lily started, not realizing that he had been listening, but "Vance is right. It's not worth it. She can make this summer miserable for you."

"Not worth it? Not _worth_ it? Did you hear what she said about werewolves? Did you hear what she said about _Muggleborns_?" Lily growled, still glaring at Healer Lanwick. But the Healer wasn't paying any attention to Lily anymore.

"If you keep arguing with her," Fenwick said, "she will keep you from getting anything done. You can still work on this potion, but you can't get her mad at you. You can't pick a fight with her."

"Just by working on this potion, I _am_ picking a fight with her," Lily replied, casting another frustrated look at the Healer. "At least, that is the way she is going to see it."

Fenwick gave a half-hearted shrug in reply.

Emma sighed. "Lily, you want to help werewolves by making this potion, but you aren't going to be able to do that if you infuriate Lanwick enough that she spends the entire summer trying to ruin your chances of completing your work. And she _will_ do that."

"She shouldn't be able to say whatever she wants just because she's got the power to get away with it," Lily responded angrily. "I can't just sit here and do nothing."

Emma shook her head slowly, then said, "I just really hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

><p>"Merlin, it's like Sev all over again!"<p>

"Uh… how's that exactly?"

"It just… it just _is_!"

Mary rubbed her eyes wearily and nodded. Lily was in one of her moods, and it wasn't really worth arguing with her. It wasn't worth pointing out that this was _nothing_ like Snape, that she wasn't in danger of losing a friendship that had mattered so much to her. This was just the normal prejudice she would face for the rest of her life.

But the redhead clearly didn't notice Mary's reluctance, and continued pacing angrily. For her, any sign of bigotry that hurt her this much was exactly like what had happened with Snape. It was the underlying emotion, not the actual events, that seemed to matter.

To Mary, it made no sense whatsoever. So Healer Lanwick was a prejudiced. That was hardly a surprise, and couldn't be the same as having your best friend call you a Mudblood in front of half of Hogwarts.

"I just hate it," Lily ranted, breaking into Mary's thoughts. "I hate all of it. The prejudice… it's everywhere. And people actually _believe_ these foul lies they're spewing."

"Of course they believe it," Mary said quietly. "It's propaganda. It only works if people believe."

Lily didn't appear to have heard. "It's so pervasive. It's worked it's way into every part of our society and we can't get it out. There's no… it's not like we are at war. If we were, then maybe it would be easier. Maybe there would be an actual enemy to fight."

"Are you actually saying war would be a good thing?" Mary asked skeptically.

"No, no… of course not," Lily answered, waving her hand dismissively, her tone conveying how ridiculous of a notion that was. "I just wish there was an actual enemy to fight. I wish there was a _way_ to fight. I wish it wasn't…" She stopped her pacing long enough to look over at Mary. "I just don't know how to fight it, and I hate that."

"I think risking your entire future and everything you've been dreaming about for the past few years in order to work on Wolfsbane Potion is a way to fight it," Mary said sardonically.

Lily frowned. "But it's not _enough_. Don't you ever want to do _more_?"

There was something in her tone, some implied criticism, that made Mary bristle. She could never fully tell what Lily thought of her own desire to avoid confrontations, though she was fairly certain that the redhead didn't approve of it. But Lily rarely approved of anything that wasn't done fully and completely and with passion. That was one of her faults – that she could never understand that sometimes it was better to back out of one fight, to conserve her strength, in order to be able to fight a different battle.

Lily started pacing again. "People just sit around doing nothing," she muttered. "It's like they don't care, like they don't… they don't even _notice_. They can't be bothered to concern themselves with the troubles of Muggleborns and part-humans…"

"Not everyone sits around doing nothing," Mary said defensively. "Some people fight in their own way, and that's perfectly valid. Even if their way is a lot more subtle than yours."

"I didn't even know who I was supposed to… Severus had all these friends, these Slytherins who were bad influences on him, but I didn't know how to get him to see that. It wasn't as though… There was no war, no battle… I couldn't tell him that they were the _enemy_. But they _were_. And they corrupted him, and he slipped away, and I was completely helpless to do _anything_ about it."

They were back on Snape again, and Mary didn't want to listen to it. She and Lily would never agree on that particular Slytherin, although she was willing to admit that Snape had been good to Lily for the first few years of their friendship. But the people he had befriended in his own house, the group he had ended up with…

He had been long past redemption by his fifth year, and Lily had been blind to it.

As usual.

Lily paused in her pacing and looked at Mary again. "I wish it wasn't this hard."

The problem with being friends with Lily, Mary reflected, was that she just had this way of saying things. She would say or do something that made her friends defensive and angry – perhaps even furious – and then she would add on one final comment, and everything would be forgiven. Because her voice would be thick with tears and her gaze would be so bloody earnest that it was impossible not to want to comfort her.

Today was no exception.

Mary let out a long breath, then reached out and took Lily's hand, squeezing it. "Most of the good things in life _are_ this hard to obtain," she said. "You'll make a difference, Lils. I know you will."

Lily smiled sadly. "But will I make a difference in time?"

"In time for what?" Mary asked, bewildered.

"For whom," Lily corrected softly, her voice only barely audible as she glanced across the room towards where her piles of books lay, all her research on the partially-formed Wolfsbane Potion. She shook her head slowly, a faraway look in her eyes, and didn't elaborate.

Mary reflected silently that she would never fully understand her redheaded friend.

* * *

><p>"Lily, darling," Mrs. Evans said in surprise, opening the door of her house and allowing Lily to enter. "Whatever are you doing here?"<p>

"I'm sorry, Mum. I know I should have rung ahead to tell you that I was coming," Lily apologized quickly, glancing beyond her mother to make sure she wasn't intruding on some other company.

"Oh, nonsense, dear," Mrs. Evans said quickly, enveloping Lily in a hug. "It is always wonderful to see you. Your father is still at work, and Petunia is shopping with Vernon and Marge."

Lily just barely managed to refrain from wrinkling her nose at the mention of her soon-to-be brother-in-law and his sister. She disliked Vernon, but Marge was even worse.

But Mrs. Evans wouldn't hear anything against Vernon, and Lily had to respect her mother for that. She was fairly certain that neither of her parents were too thrilled by Petunia's choice of fiancé, but Vernon would be family soon, and they were determined to treat him as such.

"Come in, come in," Mrs. Evans continued, pushing Lily lightly in the direction of the kitchen. "You would like a spot of tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Lily replied, wandering into the kitchen and settling herself down at the table. Mrs. Evans followed behind her, bustling about the kitchen happily, a wide smile on her face. She had no idea why Lily was there, but it was also quite obvious that the reason didn't matter to her. She was merely happy to see her younger child.

Observing this made Lily feel a bit guilty. She knew that, in her desire to join the magical world and prove her worth there, she had left her Muggle family behind. And she had never intended to do that, even if part of her had known all along that it would happen.

All children grow up, of course, but very few also wander into a world that has no place for their family.

"No tea leaves, I'm afraid," Mrs. Evans said with sigh, pulling a tin of teabags from the cupboard. "I haven't been able to replenish quite a few things in the kitchen lately. It seems that all my free time is going towards planning Petunia's wedding." She turned around and smiled at Lily. "I don't have your favorite biscuits, dear. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Mum," Lily said quickly. "The tea is fine." She hesitated a moment, then asked, "How is the wedding preparation going?"

For a brief moment, Mrs. Evans looked unsettled. She regained her composure quickly, however, and said, "Well enough, I suppose. Marge is helping a lot, of course, and she wants everything to be absolutely perfect. She has quite a few interesting ideas."

Lily bit back a smile. Reading between the lines of that statement, she knew that her mother did not like any of Marge's ideas, and did not like her constant interference with the planning.

Still, Mrs. Evans hurried on in a determination to be charitable to the other woman, "It is very considerate of her to care so much about the wedding. Vernon is her only sibling, of course, so it does not surprise me that she would be this invested."

Lily knew the intention of that comment was not to make her feel guilty for her own absence in the planning, but she could not help the flush that spread to her cheeks. Vernon might be Marge's only sibling, but Petunia was Lily's only sibling as well, and yet she wasn't the one shopping with the betrothed couple.

Mrs. Evans didn't seem to notice Lily's discomfort. She had her back turned to her daughter and was lifting the kettle of tea from the stove and pouring the hot water into the two mugs standing on the counter. Lily watched silently, idly thinking how easy it would have been to point her wand and the water and make it come to an instantaneous boil instead of waiting for it to heat up.

She shook her head to clear the thought. She was hardly in a rush at the moment and there was no need to do things by magic now, simply because she could. She was from the Muggle world, even if she didn't belong to it now, and didn't need to rely on magic for every little thing she did.

Her mother turned around and carried the two mugs to the table. She set one down in front of Lily, then surveyed her daughter for a long moment.

"Now, Lily, tell me what's wrong," she commanded.

"Nothing's really… wrong… per se. I just… fancied a chat, Mum. That's all," Lily answered.

Mrs. Evans raised an eyebrow. "You're a rubbish liar, darling," she said lightly. "I could tell form the moment I opened the door that something was bothering you. So out with it."

She sat down across from Lily and waited.

Lily sighed. "I… it's complicated. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"That's easy, dear. Start at the beginning and keep going until you reach the end." Mrs. Evans glanced at the clock on the wall. "Your sister won't be back for another few hours, so we have plenty of time."

There was an implicit request in that statement; if this was a magical problem, they needed to have finished discussing it before Petunia returned home.

It frustrated Lily to no end that she had to hide so much of herself around her sister, but Petunia was under a lot of stress at the moment. The wedding would be in September, and there was still so much to do and only a few months left to do it.

The redhead sighed and nodded, more to herself than to her mother. She would make sure that her problems did not encroach on Petunia's life, at least for now.

"There is a lot of discrimination in the magical world," Lily started, wondering silently how she was going to condense everything she had learned about bigotry in the past seven years into something that her mother could understand in a very short conversation.

Fortunately, though, Mrs. Evans said, "Yes, you told me this the summer after your fifth year. That some people think less of you because you… because your father and I are… what is the word you use? Muggles?"

Lily nodded. She had glossed over all the details of what had happened between her and Severus, but she had given both her parents a vague explanation. She'd had to, because both of them had noticed that she was no longer spending any time with the Slytherin and that, in fact, whenever he was mentioned, she would often end up in tears. She wasn't sure how much her mother remembered of what she had said two years ago, but apparently she remembered enough not to be surprised by the fact that Lily was encountering prejudice now.

"Yes," Lily murmured. "Muggles." She paused, collecting her thoughts, then continued, "There is quite a bit of prejudice against others, too, though. Part-humans… like werewolves…"

"Werewolves?" Mrs. Evans interrupted, eyes going wide. "They're _real_?" She looked aghast for a moment, then said in a more businesslike tone, "Well, I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised by that. There are so many things in your world that I had always assumed were imaginary, why should werewolves be an exception? But… are they dangerous?"

"No!" Lily answered immediately, her tone emphatic. Mrs. Evans looked startled by the response, and Lily winced. "Sorry, I just mean… most of the time, they aren't dangerous at all. Once a month, when there is a full moon, they become a… a monster. A wolf."

"Oh. That sounds… terrifying, actually."

"They don't know who they are when they transform. They lose their mind. They… they have no conscience, and they attack anything and anyone. If there aren't people around to attack, they attack themselves."

Mrs. Evans lifted a hand to her mouth. "Oh…" she whispered, looking pale and sick.

"But they aren't inherently bad. They're just like normal humans… some are good, some are bad, some are in the middle. But there is so much prejudice against them. People just… the Ministry just hates them. The responsible werewolves lock themselves up every full moon so they don't hurt anyone else… but that means that they end up hurting themselves. And the Ministry still sees them as… as monsters. Even the ones that are willing to risk their own lives and safety to make sure they don't hurt anyone else…"

Lily stopped talking for a moment. She was breathing heavily and her blood was pounding through her veins, signs that this topic was getting her very riled up. She chewed her lip and tried to calm herself. The last thing she wanted to do right now was start another rant. Her mother wouldn't be able to follow any of that.

She looked towards the window. They still lived in the same house near the same winding river and the same old playground. It was there that she had first discovered what she was and what she could do. It was there that Severus had first told her that her blood didn't matter, that she was just as good as everyone else and her heritage wouldn't get in the way of anything.

She'd believed him.

She missed that innocence.

She looked back at her mother who was watching her expectantly. "There is a potion… or, rather, the beginnings of a potion… that could make it better. It could allow a werewolf to retain his or her mind during the transformation. They would turn into a wolf, but not a monster. They wouldn't have to attack…"

"Is that what you are working on?" Mrs. Evans asked breathlessly. "Oh, Lily, that sounds wonderful. Think of all the good that you could do for people with that." She beamed at her younger daughter. "I'm so proud of you!"

Something constricted painfully in Lily's chest. "Oh, Mum…" she sighed. "That's just the problem. They don't want me to work on this potion. And Healer Lanwick… she's the instructor of the course… can make things very difficult for me. She can make the summer miserable and influence the judges at the end of the summer not to allow me to move on to the next stage in the program… She could ruin everything, could destroy all my dreams, and she's threatened to do it. All because of this stupid potion."

Mrs. Evans pursed her lips. "But isn't the potion a good thing? Why wouldn't the Ministry support helping werewolves to keep from being mindless killers?"

"She doesn't think you can tame a werewolf," Lily said bitterly. "They… they all believe that it is the human that is the monster, not the wolf. They don't think the potion will make any difference and… and there is so much prejudice, anyway, that they don't want to do anything to help werewolves. It's such rubbish, but I can't change it." She looked at her mother helplessly. "I don't know what to do, Mum."

The stakes were never this high at Hogwarts. When she argued against prejudice and bigotry, she had the support of her entire House. She had the support of most of the Professors, even Slughorn. Even the Headmaster. Yes, the Slytherins would mock her and hex her, but she was always able to stand her ground and fight back, all the while knowing that she wouldn't be kicked out of the school or given bad marks for her beliefs.

She had even managed to make Head Girl.

But now things were different. Now the stakes were higher, and she didn't have the watchful supervision of the Hogwarts staff to keep her safe. Fighting back could get her kicked out of the program, and it could ruin any chances she had for the future.

She looked down at the table and wrapped her fingers tightly around her mug of tea. "I don't want to be the girl who takes the easy road instead of the right one," she said quietly.

"Oh, Lily," Mrs. Evans murmured. She reached out and placed her fingers underneath Lily's chin, raising her daughter's face so that they were looking at each other once again. "You were _never_ that girl, and I know that you won't be."

"But what if I decide not to continue working on this potion?" Lily asked. "What if… what if I choose something more _acceptable_?"

"Sometimes you have to pick your battles," Mrs. Evans said.

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Everyone keeps telling me that," she complained.

"And everyone is right," Mrs. Evans said with a faint smile. "If this truly matters to you, then you will go through with it. But if there are better ways of fighting prejudice, ones that require you to give up this particular battle, then you will do that instead. I can't tell you what decision to make. I can't do much of anything for you, Lily, because I don't know enough about the intricacies of the magical world to even offer advice. But I do know _you_. And I know that, whatever decision you make, you will do it because you believe it is the right thing to do, and not because it just happens to be the easiest choice. And I know that, no matter what, your father and I will be proud of you."

Lily nodded slowly, a lump forming in her throat. Then she said quietly, "Thanks, Mum."


	7. What Bothers Me

Chapter Seven: What Bothers Me

Vanessa Lovely was barely twenty-one, and had straight auburn hair – more brown than red – and bright blue eyes. She had a willowy figure, full lips, and perfect, pale skin. Her eyelashes were long and dark and accentuated the electric blue of her eyes, and her cheekbones were high and sculpted, giving her a delicate appearance.

She lived up to her surname quite well.

And she knew it.

She was not, however, arrogant or haughty, nor did she seem to hold the notion that her superior looks made her any better than everyone else. She wasn't sweet, and she wasn't cruel. She was average. She had been average in her studies at Hogwarts, and she had been average at her attempts to play Quidditch, and she had been average at her ability to write.

But she _was_ stunning and she _did_ know it, and she also knew how to use that to her advantage.

Which was why she had ended up as a Quidditch reporter for the _Daily Prophet_. She might be mediocre at writing, and she might be less than knowledge about the sport in question, but she would bat her eyelashes and pout her lips and famous Quidditch players would fall all over themselves to answer any question she asked.

Her stories for the newspaper were _always_ juicy.

Which was why, when she showed up at the Quidditch pitch with a quill tucked behind one – perfectly shaped, perfectly formed – ear and a scroll of parchment in one hand, Edgar Shaw cursed under his breath and said to his gathered team, "Try to keep your wits about you today, gentlemen. We have trouble."

Several pairs of eyes turned to focus on Vanessa, and several mouths started issuing grumbling comments. Everyone _knew_ that the reporter was dangerous, and yet somehow, the male players still continually made fools of themselves in front of her.

James stared at Vanessa for a long moment, then said flatly, "She's nothing special."

Shaw looked at him, then laughed. The rest of the team joined in.

Carlotta Prewitt flipped a few strands of blonde hair over her shoulder and said dismissively, "Everyone says that the first time. Watch your back, Potter. I assure you, you won't be any different from the rest of the idiots on the team."

"Hey!" Bagman interjected defensively, "who are you calling an idiot?"

Prewitt snorted. "Ludo, last time she came, you actually told her that you were boffing that Corine girl. And both of you had significant others who were less than pleased."

Ludo flushed.

James looked at Vanessa again. "She's pretty, but…I dunno. She's just… still kind of… bland. She doesn't have any affect on me."

"Bollocks," Price said.

At the same time, Shaw said with a smirk, "Go talk to her, then."

There was an immediate silence from everyone else on the team. Shaw's comment had garnered several astounded looks, and a few accusatory ones as well. No one in their right mind would tell an eighteen-year-old male to talk to Vanessa Lovely.

But Shaw was just staring challengingly at James, waiting for an answer.

James ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the broom he was holding. They had just finished practice, and he knew that he had flown exceptionally well. In fact, he wouldn't be at all surprised if they let him play for a bit in the next match, just to see how he did under pressure.

He wouldn't be a reserve for long.

"You want me to talk to her?" he said finally. "What do you want me to say?"

Shaw rolled his eyes. "We just had tryouts, Potter. We have three new members on the team. Not to mention all the rumors surrounding Hespera's… accident. Rumors I would like to emphatically deny."

The rest of the team laughed, and James was hit with the sudden suspicion that those denials wouldn't be truthful. Was it more than just rumors? Had Shaw actually been behind that? Had Hespera? Had it all been an elaborate trap?

One look at Shaw's smirking expression was enough of an answer.

"Why don't you try talking about those?" Shaw continued. He was silent for a beat, then added, "Unless, of course, you think she might be a bit more of challenge after all."

James handed his broom to the nearest player – Jimmy Wilkinson – and said, "Can you hold this for me, mate? Thanks. I'll be back." And he turned and walked towards Vanessa with a look of determination in his eyes.

Wilkinson looked down at the broom he was holding, then up at Shaw. "What was that for?" he demanded.

Shaw shrugged. "If he really can talk to Lovely without making a fool of himself, then we just picked up a very useful weapon against scandal. And if he can't…" A sly grin appeared on his face. "Well, it will still be amusing, won't it?"

Prewitt laughed, and Daphne Dumare shook her head in amusement.

"You're a cruel, cruel man, Shaw," Bagman said. But he, too, was grinning, and his eyes were sparkling with definite bemusement.

"What's a little friendly hazing between teammates?" Shaw countered. "He's new to the team, he's got to expect a little of this." And he glanced over at the two other new players that he had taken on, the other reserve Chaser and a reserve Beater, and said pointedly, but with a hint of friendliness in his tone, "Watch your back."

The two new players shifted uneasily.

"Poor bloke has no idea what he's getting himself into," Dumare sighed, watching as James approached Vanessa. "I almost feel sorry for him. But only almost." She caught Prewitt's gaze, and the two women exchanged pointed smirks. Quidditch was a male-dominated sport, and always had been. While the presence of female players was no longer as rare as it had been only a few decades ago, it was still unusual, and both players didn't mind seeing their male counterparts get taken down a peg or two.

Just to even the score.

"Alright," Shaw said. "The rest of you, head back to the locker rooms, practice is over for today. Carlotta, you're a girl."

"Oh, well spotted, Eddie," Prewitt said sarcastically.

Shaw rolled his eyes. "Stay out here and keep an eye on Potter. You're immune to Lovely's charms, so go pull him away from her if he starts making a complete fool of himself. Alright?"

"Alright," Prewitt agreed.

The rest of the team made their way towards the changing rooms, laughing, joking and slapping each other on the back, and Prewitt stayed behind to observe Potter and Lovely. The team was collegial, and they were all incredibly focused on winning, but they were also not above playing pranks on each other. She didn't know Potter well, but the little she had heard about it made her think he would fit in quite well here.

Shaw always found a way of humiliating the new recruits within the first few weeks of practice. He said it made them feel like part of the team – once the embarrassment had worn off, of course. And it usually did, because after they had gone through whatever ordeal Shaw had arranged, the rest of the team would tell them about their own hazing experiences and just how mortified they had been.

It built camaraderie.

This was the first time Shaw had ever sent anyone to deal with Lovely, though. It was brilliant. She was a little surprised that they hadn't thought of it before.

But then Prewitt thought about how serious Potter had been when he said that Vanessa Lovely wasn't anything special, and for a moment, she wondered if he might actually succeed.

* * *

><p>"I'm James Potter," James said, introducing himself and flopping into the seat next to Vanessa. "I hear you are a reporter for the <em>Daily Prophet<em>."

"Yes," Vanessa said. "I report on Quidditch teams." Her voice was almost seductive. But not the fake kind of seductive. Not the sort of tone someone used when they were _trying_ to seduce another person. No, her voice seemed to be naturally seductive and, as such, it quickly slipped past most men's defenses.

James wasn't most men. When she turned to face him, the sun caught her hair, turning it almost red, and he thought of Lily.

"Vanessa Lovely, right?" he asked.

"You can call me Vanessa, Mr. Potter," she replied, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Then you can call me James," he replied.

She slid closer to him on the bench. "I saw you playing Chaser during the practice. Are you a new recruit?"

"I am," James answered. "Reserve Chaser."

"Mm… that must be exciting," Vanessa pressed. She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and looked at him earnestly with her brilliant sapphire eyes. "How long have you played Quidditch?"

"Oh, since as long as I can remember, really," James answered in an offhanded manner. "My father bought me my first broom when I was four. A real one, not those toy brooms that only go a little ways of the floor."

Vanessa considered this for a moment, then asked, "Potter? There was a Potter who was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts last year."

James inclined his head. "That was me." He hesitated, then said, "You really do your background work, don't you?"

Vanessa laughed lightly. Her laugh was soft and gentle and made James' his face flush.

"You know, I am more than just a pretty face," she said. "I take my job seriously."

"Is that why you reported that Hespera's accident wasn't really an accident?" James asked, knowing that this wasn't the best topic of conversation to bring up, given his current suspicions. Still, he wanted to hear how Vanessa would defend herself.

For a moment, Vanessa looked surprised. Then she sighed. "Ah, yes… I had a feeling that latest story would not sit well with Shaw. But you should do your own background work before making accusations, James. I didn't report that Hespera's accident was a set-up. I reported that Puddlemere United had accused Shaw of that. It was the accusation that was the story, not the rumor." She tapped her quill idly against the scroll of parchment and said, "It's not my fault that people are always looking for the gossip and the scandal. And it's not my fault that people think Shaw might actually do something like this."

"You think Eddie would actually…" James started.

"You don't?" Vanessa demanded. Her skin was flushed a slight pink and she was gazing at him with defiance in her eyes, daring him to challenge her. "You don't think he would want to beat Puddlemere United by any means necessary? Sabine was a good player, but she wasn't great. It was a sacrifice anyone would be willing to make. But even if Shaw wasn't behind any of what happened, it is still interesting that he has enough of a reputation for being ruthless that people are willing to believe this of him."

"He's not ruthless," James defended the team captain. "He just cares about the sport. He wants to win."

"Everyone wants to win," Vanessa countered. "That's the point of the game. Yet not everyone is perceived as being brutal."

"He's hardnosed. He's uncompromising. He's a fierce player, and I suppose he can be intimidating," James said. "Those aren't bad things. That's how the game is played. It's about winning."

"And reporting is about selling stories," Vanessa replied, "but that doesn't mean I go out looking to destroy my opponents."

"And your report on Bagman and Corine?" James questioned. "Was that _not_ about the scandal?"

This time, Vanessa looked angry. "What exactly is it about Quidditch players that makes them think they are above the rest of us mere mortals?" she demanded hotly.

James ran a hand through his messy hair and looked away from her. "What makes you think we're so arrogant?" he asked in reply.

"Bagman was furious at me when that came out. But he's the one who was sleeping with a girl other than the one he was dating. He and Rhonda Davis had been going together for nine months and everyone thought they were going to get engaged, then it turns out he's been shagging some other girl on the side and _I'm_ the one who doesn't have morals?" She huffed impatiently and flicked auburn hair out of her eyes. "He didn't even apologize to Davis, you know. But, Merlin, he acted like he was the one who was wounded. Arrogant prick."

James didn't say anything. That rant reminded him far too much of Lily. She had often accused him of the same thing, of thinking that his prowess at Quidditch made him better than everyone else.

Vanessa eyed him. "Oh… I hit a nerve there, didn't I?" she said shrewdly. "Who's the girl?"

"What?" James asked, surprised and taken aback.

"The one who called you an arrogant prick," Vanessa answered. "There was one, I can tell that much. And I'm guessing you liked her. A lot." She studied his face for another moment, then said softly, "And she hated you. Am I right?"

It was disturbing just how right she was.

James rose to his feet. "I should go," he said awkwardly.

Vanessa reached out and caught his arm. "James, I'm sorry," she said quickly, and he tried to ignore the look of regret in her eyes or the way his skin tingled at her touch. "We don't have to talk about the girl," she said.

"I thought Quidditch players were arrogant pricks," James replied. "Why would you be willing to avoid talking about a girl who agrees with you?"

"Because you actually seem to care," Vanessa replied. "Most people I've spoken to don't care about the girls that don't fall all over them. Most would give up the minute it got even a little bit difficult. But you clearly still like this girl, and it still hurts that you can't get her to like you."

"So Bagman's just looking for an easy shag but I'm something special?" James drawled.

Vanessa laughed. "Well, you're hardly something _special_," she replied, pulling on James' arm until he resumed his seat next to her. "But I do like talking to you. Besides, an article on a decent Quidditch player might actually be a nice change of pace for my readers."

James considered this for a moment, then said flatly, "I doubt it."

Vanessa shrugged. "Yeah, I know. They'll miss all the juicy rumors and gossip and want to know why I didn't report on the more sordid details of your life."

"What makes you think I have sordid secrets?" James asked.

Vanessa gave him an enigmatic smile. "Everyone does," she answered. "You're hardly an exception to _that_ rule." She clicked her tongue against her teeth for a moment, studying him appraisingly, then said, "So you made the team right out of Hogwarts. I'm impressed."

"You should be," James replied immediately. "I am _that_ good."

Vanessa laughed again, and James found himself liking the sound of her laugh and the look of mirth in her eyes. He tried to think of something else, tried to think of Lily, but he couldn't. Vanessa was leaning against him, her hair tickling his skin, and all other thoughts started slipping from his mind as he stared into her blue eyes.

"Really?" she asked. "You have quite the opinion of yourself, don't you?"

"Why bother downplaying my talents?" James answered.

"Is that how you managed at Hogwarts? By showing off your incredible talents?" Vanessa asked.

"Nah. Only in class. On the Quidditch pitch, I was more of a team player," James answered. "It's the Seekers that show off, you know, with their flashy dives and feints."

"So Seekers are arrogant show-offs and Chasers are humble team players?" Vanessa repeated.

James frowned. "Now you're twisting my words all around," he accused.

Vanessa just smiled. "It was a joke, James. It's a team sport, so I do actually know that all members of a team are supposed to be team players." She gave him a cross look and added, "I'm not entirely inept at my job. I do know _a bit_ about this sport."

"Does everything always end up as an argument with you?" James asked sharply.

"You don't seem so bad at arguing yourself," Vanessa shot back. "Have you had a lot of practice with this? If I didn't know better, I'd say you have quite a bit of familiarity with how to turn every conversation into a dispute."

"So what if I have?" James snapped. "There's nothing wrong with arguing with people, particularly if they are wrong. It doesn't make me arrogant and it doesn't make me a complete prat."

"I don't know, James," Vanessa replied doubtfully. "If you have people calling you a prat quite frequently, maybe they are right. Do many of your friends find you arrogant."

"No, it's just bloody Lily Evans and she…"

He stopped, then stared at Vanessa in a mixture of horror and admiration.

"You are good," he said in awe.

Vanessa nodded. "I am," she agreed.

The problem with Vanessa Lovely wasn't just that she was beautiful or that she knew how to use her looks to her advantage. It was that she had one very important talent outside of her looks; she knew how to read people. And if she couldn't manipulate a man based on her looks…

Well, James was proof that there were other ways to get what she wanted.

"Was that all just manipulation?" James asked quietly.

"Of course not," Vanessa said dismissively. "It is far easier and more effective to get what you want if you make sure the things you say actually match how you feel. I do, in fact, think that Bagman is a prick. Just like I do think that Shaw probably orchestrated everything with Hespera Sabine, but the real story isn't so much that he did that but that he has been _accused_ of doing it."

She looked down at her notes, reading over them with a self-satisfied smile, before tucking the quill behind her ear once more.

"How did you know all the right things to say?" James asked.

"The team knows who I am," Vanessa said. "They know my reputation, and many of them have had less than pleasant interactions with me. Yet you walked over to me like you weren't worried about anything, and that meant one of two things; you were either arrogant enough to think that you would be different from every other member of the male gender that I've ever spoken to, or you were head-over-heels in love with someone else and didn't think my looks could tempt you to say anything damaging."

"I didn't say anything too damaging," James protested.

Vanessa looked down at her notes, then said, "James, when I asked you if you thought Shaw was behind Sabine's memory loss and subsequent elopement, you replied," she cleared her throat and read the direct quote, ""He's hardnosed. He's uncompromising. He's a fierce player, and I suppose he can be intimidating. Those aren't bad things. That's how the game is played. It's about winning." She looked up at him. "How do you think that is going to be interpreted?"

"I didn't mean it like that…"

"You also called Seekers show-offs, claiming that they their flashy dives and feints were ways of getting attention," Vanessa remarked. "And you admitted to being in love with one Lily Evans."

"That's not… that's all…"

"Nothing quite as scandalous as some of the other stories I've written," Vanessa continued, ignoring James' stammering, "but still… I think my readers will like this story."

"You manipulated me into saying all of those things," James accused.

Vanessa met his gaze. "Yes," she said bluntly. James seethed, but she asked quietly, "Tell me one thing, though; did you not mean what you said?"

"What?" James asked.

"Do you not believe that Shaw could be responsible? Do you not think that Seekers are show-offs and you are more of a team player? Are you not in love with Lily Evans?"

James didn't answer. He couldn't answer, because everything she had said was true. He did believe all of that, although his comment about Seekers was more of a joke than anything else. But… well, Seekers did show off. Their spectacular dives were what drew many fans to the game.

He thought about Shaw, and then about Lily, and sighed.

"You are good," he said again. Then, on a whim, he asked, "Go out with me?"

"A date is not going to make me forget about this story," Vanessa replied. "Besides, I'm three years older than you."

"So?" James argued. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this, why he was asking her out. He liked her. He couldn't explain it, because she had just spent an entire conversation manipulating him into saying some rather damaging things, but despite all that, talking to her had been… fun.

"Three years is a big difference at our age," Vanessa answered.

"You'll have fun," James said confidently. "Come on, what could it hurt?"

"What about Lily Evans?"

"She has a boyfriend."

"Ah."

"I'm not trying to make her jealous."

"Of course not."

"I really like you."

"Is that so?"

"Let's make a bet out of this."

That caught her attention. "A bet… interesting. What are the terms?" Vanessa asked, looking intrigued.

James hesitated, then came up with the perfect idea and couldn't stop the smirk that spread across his features. "I bet that you'll not only have a good time, you'll say yes when I ask you on a second date. If I win, you don't print that story or any of what I said. If you win, I'll go on record saying that I have proof that Eddie and Hespera conspired to lure the Puddlemere United Seeker away from the team."

"You don't have proof," Vanessa said.

"I'll find proof," James said.

"Even if Shaw is innocent?" Vanessa asked skeptically. "That isn't the kind of reporting I do. I don't blatantly lie."

James gave her a pointed look and she realized exactly what he was trying to tell her.

Shaw _wasn't_ innocent.

"Well, now this has just gotten quite a bit more interesting," she murmured. "You do realize that this means I will spend the entire date trying _not_ to have a good time?"

"I know."

"And that I could win the bet by refusing to go on a second date with you even if I do have a good time."

"But you won't do that," James challenged, "because you have too much integrity to lie."

Vanessa considered the terms, then nodded. "You have a deal, James Potter."

James watched her go, his heart hammering in his chest. He was thinking of Vanessa and how good she had smelled and how her eyes had been so stunningly blue and how she had held her own in their arguments and even had enough skill to manipulate him. He was thinking of how much fun it had been to talk to her, to argue with her, to laugh with her.

But Vanessa was a reporter.

He ran a hand through his hair.

He really needed to think through his actions a bit more, instead of acting on instinct. He'd just made a bet with a _Daily Prophet_ reporter – one he thought he might actually fancy – and if he lost the bet, he could lose his spot on the team and any possible chance of playing Quidditch for any other team in the future.

Oh, Merlin. What had he just gotten himself into?

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well… if it isn't little Pettigrew…"<p>

Peter started at the sound of the haughty voice and spun around, eyes widening in surprise and a little bit of unease as he gazed at the two wizards approaching him.

"Avery," he said, nodding his head and doing his best to appear unafraid, "Mulciber."

Marcus Avery was not tall, but he had a stocky build and a pair of large, thick hands that were currently curled into menacing fists. Dante Mulciber _was_ tall and could easily loom over Peter. He was holding his wand loosely in one hand.

Peter found himself wishing fervently that James or Sirius were there.

A woman appeared behind Mulciber. She had jet black hair and heavily lidded eyes, and her mere presence made Peter very nearly turn into a rat and scamper away. He'd never had much in the way of actual contact with Bellatrix Lestrange – she'd been out of Hogwarts before he had even started – but he knew her reputation. And he'd heard stories from Sirius.

"What's the matter, Petey?" Lestrange crooned, lips curling into a mocking smirk. "Don't I get a greeting, too?"

Peter swallowed nervously. "What do you want?" he asked, frustrated that his voice began to waver.

"Oh, is the poor ickle Petey afraid?" Lestrange continued in that same infuriating babying tone. "Is he scared without his precious Potter and Black to protect him?"

Peter backed up a bit, but said with as much bravado as he could muster, "I'm not afraid of you."

Mulciber and Avery both laughed.

"Nice little store you've got here, Pettigrew," Mulciber said. He had a gravelly voice that did not quite seem to match his tall and somewhat wiry build.

Peter looked around. It was his father's shop. He'd been helping with the newest shipment of goods, stacking merchandise and taking inventory. Ever since his mother's death just two years earlier, he had spent most of his free time helping out, trying to make the burden easier for his father.

"It's so… quaint," Lestrange agreed. "Of course, I never did anything quite so demeaning as work in retail, but it has its… charms."

Her tone left little doubt that she meant all of this as an insult, and Peter bristled in response. She looked at him, daring him to say something, and he sagged. He could barely think in coherent sentences with the three of them standing right in front of him, how was he supposed to fight back?

Lestrange might be older and… well… _terrifying_, but Avery and Mulciber, he reminded himself, were both the same age as he was. They had been at Hogwarts together, and maybe they did both know more Dark magic than he did, but their marks couldn't have been that much better. They were bloody _Slytherins_, after all.

He had to be brave. He had to stand up to them. He _had_ to.

But he couldn't. Not on his own, not without Sirius or James. Or even Remus.

Avery walked over to a nearby shelf. "A toy store," he said with a snort. "And they aren't even good toys. Pathetic." He picked up a miniature train, an almost exact replica of the Hogwarts Express, and studied it. "Where's the magic?" he asked.

"There isn't any," Mulciber replied before Peter could say anything. "They're _Muggle_ toys."

"A Muggle toy store in Diagon Alley?" Avery repeated, sounding disgusted.

"It isn't a Muggle toy store," Peter interrupted angrily, flushing slightly. "My Dad just likes selling toys that don't have a lot of complicated spells on them. But some of the toys do incorporate magic…"

The three Slytherins ignored him.

"I can see his filthy Muggle mother's influence," Lestrange said contemptuously, picking up a doll. She pulled at its hair, pulling hard enough to nearly tear the head from the neck, then discarded it carelessly. Peter scurried over to pick up the doll from where she had dropped it and replaced it carefully on the shelf.

He turned around, and Lestrange was right in front of him, blocking any chance of escape. Mulciber and Avery came to flank her on either side, both staring at Peter with identical looks of anticipation.

Peter swallowed nervously.

Lestrange reached out and ran her fingers along the length of Peter's arm. Her touch was light, her skin cool, and Peter began to shake almost uncontrollably.

"Wh-what do you w-want?" he stammered, backing away until he was pressed up against the shelf behind him.

"I want that mangy cousin of mine," Lestrange replied quietly. "I want him to give up his ridiculous blood traitor notions and come back to the family before he completely embarrasses us. And I want Potter knocked down a bit. I want him to remember his _place_."

Somehow, her hushed tones just made her all the more terrifying.

"I don't… I…"

"The name Potter should mean something to him," she continued, speaking over Peter's stammered protests. "He has a bloodline to uphold, but his parents' blood traitor influences are clearly too much for him to overcome. Instead of casting his lot with those of us that matter," and here she paused, smirking again as she nodded to her two companions, "he wastes his time chasing Mudbloods and befriending half-bloods like you. And what do you call yourselves? The Marauders? _Pathetic_."

"I'm not going to…"

She stepped closer to him, and he had no more room to back up. "I want your little group torn apart, ickle Petey, and you're going to help me do it."

"I won't," Peter said with determination, feeling pride at how well he was standing up to her.

"Then your Daddy's precious little shop is going to go up in flames," Lestrange countered. She stepped back and moved towards the door of the store, gesturing for Mulciber and Avery to follow her. She paused just before exiting, and looked at Peter once more. "I'll give you some time to think it over, Petey. But don't think too long…" Her eyes glittered malevolently. "I'm not a patient person."


	8. Is You Don't Know How You Feel

A/N: So, I have had a couple reviews mentioning my lack of James/Lily interaction, and I wanted to reassure people on this matter. At this point, they are both dealing with other issues (Lily and the Wolfsbane potion, James and... well, you'll see in this chapter). I have no intention of dragging out the Lily/Caradoc and James/Vanessa part of the plot. However, the story is about how James and Lily grow into mature adults, both together and apart, so they will have lives (and obstacles) outside of each other. Hence the lack of James/Lily in the past several chapters.

Chapter Eight: Is You Don't Know How You Feel

And quite suddenly, it was the fifth week of the program. Lily wasn't really sure how that had happened, how she had not noticed the continual passage of time. It seemed like only yesterday that she was first meeting Emma and Healer Lanwick, first settling herself into the work station that would be hers for the next three months. But more than a month had passed since then, and she was only a week away from the midpoint of the program.

She had made progress. Not much, but a little. The theory was so convoluted, the magic so advanced, that it took all her time and effort to make sense of the bits and pieces Damocles Belby had written about the Wolfsbane Potion. Most of her ideas had turned out not to work, but that hadn't discouraged her as much as she thought it would. Every now and then she would stumble across some small success, and that was enough of a reason to keep going.

Her mother's words had helped, too. It had still taken her some time to come to the decision, but in the end, she had realized that she couldn't walk away from this potion. It might mean giving up the chance to fight other battles, but this was one time that she would not surrender. This was one time that she would not give up.

Healer Lanwick still glared at her, and Eliza Greengrass still made snide comments, and Emma still watched the entire situation with unease, but Lily refused to let any of it stop her from doing what she knew was right.

And if things with Emma were still a little tense, they could usually avoid any problems by not talking about werewolves. It meant that any discussion of potions was taboo, something that irritated Lily greatly, but she was willing to let it go.

For now.

She hadn't had any more run-ins with Potter or his friends, for which she was remarkably grateful. She did seek out Remus once or twice, poking her head into the bookstore he worked in just to make sure that he was alright. She wanted to tell him what she was working on, but also didn't want to get his hopes up. She might not have any success, and it would hurt him even more to have yet another dream handed to him and then destroyed.

Besides, she'd have to tell him that she knew he was a werewolf, and she had a feeling that if he had wanted to have _that_ conversation with her, he would have brought up the topic himself.

In some ways, it felt like nothing had changed.

Still, five weeks _had_ passed. Her dates with Caradoc had grown more frequent, and they had fallen into a steady and pleasant routine with each other. Alice was knee-deep in plans for her wedding to Frank, and showed up often to complain to Lily and Mary about her fiancé's overbearing mother. And Mary was her usual gossiping, giggling self.

Petunia, on the other hand, was her usual bitter self, and had refused to allow Lily to be in her wedding. That bit of news had come on the same day that Alice had asked Lily to be a bridesmaid, and the juxtaposition between how she was treated by her sister and how she was treated by her friend was startlingly clear.

And so life went on.

* * *

><p>"You did well at practice, James."<p>

"Why, thank you, Vanessa. Now put that parchment and quill away. This is a date, and I don't want you reporting on everything I do."

Vanessa laughed at James' comment, and he felt a little bit of pride at how easily he was talking to her. The rest of the team was watching, of course, and he had to appear suave and debonair in front of them. They had all been skeptical – the two female players in particular – about his date. Dumare had even suggested that Vanessa was still manipulating him, still looking for more scandal. He had to prove them wrong.

Of course, he hadn't actually told any of them about the bet.

Vanessa rested her fingers on his arm. "Don't you want to say anything about your amazing talent at Quidditch? A reserve Chaser just out of Hogwarts – that's practically unheard of. Well… unless you're the Chudley Cannons. Then I suppose anyone can make the team."

That comment earned her quite a bit of appreciative laughter from the listening Quidditch players. The Cannons were not known for having any particular skill at Quidditch. In fact, their only claim to fame seemed to be their eighty-year losing streak.

James grinned.

Vanessa tapped her quill against the parchment. "That was a nice little scrimmage you played, James. You had a few spectacular moves. Are you sure you don't want me to write about that?"

But James just waved his hand dismissively. "I only managed to score so many times because I had some very good setups from other players," he answered. "It's a team sport, Vanessa, remember?" He ran a hand through his hair and added, "Besides, I scored six goals, so that's sixty points. Carlotta caught the Snitch, so that's a hundred and fifty points. You want to write about the most valuable player? You should write about her."

Vanessa shook her head in amusement, and tucked the quill and parchment into her purse. "Maybe I will," she said, giving Prewitt an appraising look.

James slid his arm out from underneath her fingers and took her hand in his own. "Shall we go?" he suggested. "Not that having a data at the Quidditch pitch in front of my entire team wouldn't be fun and all…"

If he was being honest with himself, he was a little bit nervous about this date. Vanessa was older than him, and more experienced than the girls he had dated at Hogwarts. More importantly, it had been over a year since he had dated anyone at all. He'd tried to date other girls during his fifth and sixth years at school, but by the last year, it had become impossible. He couldn't help but compare them all to Lily, and they all fell short.

He'd not gone on a date since the end of sixth year.

Vanessa had wanted to start the date after his Quidditch practice. It had been a good practice, though he had been distracted in the beginning. He'd finally warmed up enough to play well – not spectacularly, as she had claimed, but still quite well – and she had been in the stands watching. They had finished practice with a scrimmage, dividing the team and the reserve players into two groups and having them play each other, and James' side had won.

But now he was sweaty, his hair was mused and sticking up and out more than it usually did, and most of his clothing was covered in dirt or dust.

Vanessa, on the other hand, looked stunning.

Why had he agreed to go right after practice?

Vanessa squeezed his hand. "Looking forward to this," she murmured.

Then they both turned on the spot and were gone.

They reappeared in Diagon Alley, and James quickly waved his wand at himself and muttered a spell, siphoning off the dirt and dust and sweat. He still didn't match Vanessa's silky hair and red lips, and his somewhat rumpled robes weren't quite the same as her periwinkle blue sundress, but at least he felt clean.

Vanessa smiled at him. "Stop worrying about your appearance," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I didn't know what you would look like after Quidditch practice." She reached up and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Besides, I like your hair all windblown like this. It's just another reminder of how good you are at the game."

Lily didn't. Lily hated it like that. Lily hated it when he messed up his hair, and she hated it when he talked about Quidditch, and she hated it when he talked about his own talents.

Vanessa turned away from him and looked around the twisting, cobblestone street. "So, what's the plan, James?" She looked back at him sharply. "You do have a plan for this date, don't you?"

"Of course I do," James answered, rolling his eyes. "Honestly. Do you really think I would make this kind of a bet with you and then not plan out the date?"

Vanessa shrugged, then said, "You know, if you want me to agree to a second date, it's probably not a good idea to bring up the fact that this is really just a bet."

"It isn't just a bet," James protested. "It's a date, too. Maybe you only came because of the bet, but I'm the one who asked you out, remember? So clearly, _I_ wanted to go on a date, regardless of the terms of the bet."

"Do you always turn everything into an argument?" Vanessa demanded, smirking. James looked surprised at the question, and she elaborated, "I was just offering some advice, and instead of accepting it, you argued. I was trying to _help_ you win."

"Ah… habit, I guess," James said, shrugging awkwardly. Vanessa didn't answer, and James lopped his arm casually around her shoulders. "Come on, let's start at Sugarplum's Sweets Shop," he said, guiding her towards the nearby store.

The place was crowded. James was still wearing his Wimbourne Wasps robes, and quite a few people stared at him as he entered. He was used to the stares – he was James Potter, after all – but usually his notoriety came from either the fact that he was a Marauder, in which case the stares weren't always friendly, or the fact that he was a Potter, in which case the stares were often appraising. Now people were pointing at the team emblem emblazoned onto the center of his robes and whispering to each other.

A moment later, the proprietor of the shop appeared and hurried over to James and Vanessa. He looked flustered and a bit awed.

"Welcome, welcome," he said enthusiastically. "Can I help you find anything?"

"We're just browsing at the moment," James answered with a smile.

The owner nodded, then looked at James' robes. "Are you…?"

"Reserve Chaser," Vanessa cut in before James could answer. "Just made the team. Right out of Hogwarts."

"Oh… wow…" There was definite awe in the shop owner's voice. He continued to stare at James for another moment, then realized what he was doing and flushed bright red. "Right… well, I'll let you get back to… to looking at things," he stammered. "Let me know if you… need anything."

And he practically scurried away.

"Well…" James said quietly, "that was different."

Vanessa laughed and tapped the team emblem on his robes. "Why do you think I wanted to go on the date right after Quidditch practice?" she asked lightly.

"You… you knew… you knew that this would happen?" James demanded, surprised. "You planned it?"

Vanessa sighed. "James, I'm Quidditch reporter. Do you really think I don't know exactly how people respond to seeing Quidditch players wandering about? Particularly those still wearing their uniforms?" She glanced around the shop, lowering her voice so as not to be overheard by the other patrons. "And the Wimbourne Wasps are _good_. You play for a popular team now. _Of course_ people are going to be in awe of you."

"I can't believe you planned this," James said, shaking his head. "That's so… sneaky." He smiled. "I'm impressed."

Vanessa considered this for a moment, then asked, "Have you never had people treat you like a celebrity? You were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and I know that they won the Cup a few times while you were there."

James shrugged. "Sure, but that was Hogwarts. I didn't realize it would hold true here as well." He paused, then added, "Besides, people always treat me differently, but usually it isn't until they've learned my family name."

"Ah, yes… Potter," Vanessa remarked as she picked up a miniature unicorn made entirely of crystallized sugar and inspected it. "It must be something to have that name."

The unicorn tried to nibble at Vanessa's hand.

"It is… _something_," James agreed with a grin. Having the surname Potter meant that, when he was older and – as he liked to think of it – a real adult, people would always listen to everything he had to say. It meant that he would always have influence over politics, and people would always want to know his opinion on important matters. Being a Potter meant being a leader in society. It meant being able to get everything he ever wanted without much effort. Even the people who hated him and his parents for their less traditional views would at least respect the name he carried.

He knew exactly what it meant to be a Potter, and he loved it.

He had a feeling he was going to like being a Quidditch celebrity, too.

"Would you like me to buy the unicorn for you?" James asked, nodding to the sugary confection that Vanessa was still holding.

The auburn-haired witch shook her head and replaced the candy on the shelf where it belonged. "Thank you, but I don't know what I would do with a sugar-spun unicorn."

There were several other animals made from sugar on the shelf. A miniature dragon stretched its wings and huffed sugary puffs that were probably supposed to be smoke or fire. A cat curled into a ball and purred. A tiny lion roared fiercely, and an eagle sat perched on a sugar-spun tree stump, preening.

"I imagine you're supposed to eat the candy," James suggested. "Just like Chocolate Frogs."

"I don't like Chocolate Frogs," Vanessa replied.

"You what?" James demanded, outraged. How could anyone not like Chocolate Frogs?

"It just seems… weird. It feels like eating a real frog. I mean, they jump all over the place and then you're just supposed to pop them in your mouth like it's no big deal?"

"It isn't a big deal. They're chocolate!"

"Chocolate shouldn't move," was Vanessa's response. "It's just… _wrong_."

They continued browsing in companionable silence for a few minutes, then James asked slowly, "Did you see anything here you want to buy?"

"Not really," Vanessa answered.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" James asked, grinning ever so slightly with anticipation.

"Do you have other plans for the date?"

James shrugged. "I was going to suggest ice cream, and then I created a fireworks show for us, but…"

"A fireworks show?" Vanessa asked, sounding both confused and intrigued.

"A couple of my mates and I have been playing around with this for a while," James explained. "They were useful distractions at Hogwarts when we wanted to set up pranks and things like that, and I think we actually got fairly good at it." He smiled fondly, remembering a particularly amusing incident in which they had set off fireworks on the Great Hall as a distraction to allow them to charm all the suits of armor in the castle to stand in front of the Slytherin common room and bar entry to the House's students.

It had taken Slughorn, McGonagall, and Flitwick the better part of an hour to remove all of the spells, and several Slytherins had been chased by the suits of armor through the corridors and up a few flights of stairs.

"So you want to get ice cream and watch fireworks?" Vanessa asked, interrupting James' thoughts.

"Not really," James admitted. "I will happily do it if you want to, but I thought…" He looked at her, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Fancy a stroll into Knockturn Alley?"

Vanessa's eyes widened. "Sure," she said somewhat hesitantly.

"Don't worry," James said with a cocky grin, draping an arm over her shoulders and leading her from the sweets store, "I'll protect you."

"What makes you think I'm the one who will need protecting?" Vanessa shot back with a smile. Then, as they turned down a side street and made their way towards the alley in question, she asked, "Had you ever even been in Sugarplum's Sweets Shop before?"

"Once," James replied. "I've been in Honeydukes plenty of times, but Sugarplum's always seemed a little bit too…"

"Frivolous?" Vanessa suggested.

James nodded. Honeydukes sold decent chocolate and candy instead of delicate sugar-spun animals and other elaborate confections. Even the sugar quills at Sugarplum's seemed more ornate than normal.

But Lily had been there on her date with Dearborn, and she had seemed to enjoy it, so James had assumed that other girls would as well.

He wasn't sure if that assumption was accurate, though.

"We're here," Vanessa murmured.

Simply crossing over the threshold between the two alleys was like entering a completely different world. The streets were narrower in Knockturn Alley, and the buildings were taller. They nearly blocked out the sun and cast long shadows along the twisting pathways. The brightness and the bustle of Diagon Alley was gone, replaced by a feeling of secrecy and danger.

James loved it.

Vanessa scooted a little closer to him and asked in a hushed whisper, "Do you come here often?"

James shook his head. "I snuck in a few times when I was younger. My parents forbid it, but…" He trailed off with a half-shrug.

"You've never been one for following rules?" Vanessa finished for him.

He inclined his head. "Something like that."

The street they were on spilled out into a main thoroughfare. There were a few witches and wizards shopping. All of them were dressed in black cloaks that at least partially obscured their faces from view. They clung to the shadows of the buildings, moving quickly. This wasn't a place where most decent people wanted to advertise their presence or identity.

James, pulled out his wand and quickly transfigured both his robes and Vanessa's dress into clothing similar to what the others in the alley were wearing. At least this way they would blend in.

Vanessa fingered the coarse material of the robes she was now wearing and wrinkled her nose.

"I'll change it back when we leave," James promised, rolling his eyes at her expression.

Vanessa was about to reply when she stopped, her mouth hanging open as her eyes focused on something else. James followed her gaze and his gut clenched tightly.

Lucius Malfoy was walking through Knockturn Alley with his hood thrown back to reveal his gleaming silver-blonde hair and pale features. Walking beside him was Severus Snape and someone else whose hood was pulled up over his head, placing his face in shadow. The three were walking briskly and without paying any attention to their surroundings, as though they were too good for everyone else.

James pulled Vanessa further back into the shadows.

As they drew nearer, James heard Malfoy say, "…pity, really. I know Bella is looking into it, but it seems almost like a lost cause."

Snape seemed to agree with that. "I don't see why we bother with either of them."

"Black is an embarrassment to all of us," Malfoy replied, "but especially to me, now that Cissy and I are married. It's a pity he didn't turn out more like his brother."

The third person nodded and said in a rough voice, "His idiotic Gryffindor ideals have made sure of that."

"True, Rabastan," Malfoy agreed.

James glared at he third man in disgust. He had never met Rabastan Lestrange, but he had heard enough stories to truly despise the other wizard. He was little more than a petty criminal now, but his pureblood fanaticism, combined with his ties to his far more powerful brother and sister-in-law, made him dangerous.

"I cannot allow this to continue. I am a Malfoy, and it will not do for anyone carrying my name to be affiliated with someone who holds such misguided beliefs. Black and Potter are causing far too much trouble."

Vanessa glanced up at James, eyes wide. James guided her forward so that the two of them were following the three Slytherins, staying just out of sight as they crept along. Vanessa's hand was now wrapped tightly around his wrist, and he could practically feel her anxiety.

"James…" she whispered. "Why are they talking about you? Who is Black? Are you _friends_ with a Black?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," James answered in a hiss. "I want to hear what they're saying." He had tensed a little at the disgust in Vanessa's tone when she mentioned the Blacks, and wondered how much she knew about the family. Sirius was different, of course, but the rest of his family…

Well, they _did_ deserve the disgust Vanessa so clearly felt for them.

Still, the conversation he'd need to have with Vanessa didn't matter as much as the conversation he was listening to now, and he turned his attention back to Malfoy. It was clear that the aristocratic blonde was talking about Sirius and himself, and James wanted to know why.

"Sirius Black has been disowned by his family," Snape said silkily. "I doubt you will convince him to return. And Potter, well…" There was just the slightest inflection of disdain in his voice.

"Greasy git," James muttered under his breath, scowling at Snape.

Vanessa's lips quirked upwards in amusement. "Is this how you spend all of your dates?" she murmured, nodding her head towards the three Slytherins.

"No," James answered airily, still keeping his voice quiet. "I only take the girls I _really_ like to Knockturn Alley to spy on slimy Slytherins."

"Is that so?" Vanessa whispered in reply.

"Charlus Potter is far too prominent," Malfoy said after a moment of silence, "but he's old, and rumor has it that he is not doing well. He will not be with us much longer."

"That's your father," Vanessa said. It wasn't a question, but James nodded anyway, unable to stop the fear from coalescing into a hard knot in his stomach. It was true that his father was old and sickly, and it was also true that despite his ill health, he still retained quite a bit of influence at the Ministry.

Old money and pure blood could buy a wizard pretty much anything, and the Potters had plenty of both.

"I still don't understand what you think we can do about any of this," Lestrange said. He jerked his head towards Snape and continued, "He's only just out of Hogwarts, and you and I have only been out for a few years ourselves. Our fathers would be much more likely to succeed."

"And I assure you that they will be playing large roles in this as well," Malfoy answered. "Well…" he cast a derisive look towards Snape and added, "_my_ father will, at least."

Snape flushed but said nothing.

"I have spoken at great length with my father, Ignatius Prewitt, and dear cousin Araminta about the views of the Ministry. But we are the next generation of leaders, Rabastan, and we are the ones who will ultimately decide the fate of our _esteemed_ Ministry." Malfoy smirked coolly. "And if we are to persuade the Ministry to adopt more appropriate viewpoints on Mudbloods and the like, we will need to ensure that James Potter does not attempt to follow in his father's footsteps."

"Potter is far too interested in Quidditch and other trivial things to do any real work," Snape sneered. "His father understands politics. He does not. We have no reason to fear him. Or Black."

"Be that as it may," Rabastan said, "there is no reason to take chances."

"There are others to worry about, too," Snape added. "It appears that Arthur Weasley is even a greater Muggle-loving fool than his father."

Malfoy snorted disdainfully. "The Weasleys have no money and never will."

"The Vances, then? And the McKinnons? They both have money and Joseph McKinnon is well respected in the Ministry," Snape pressed. "And what about the McMillans? Arnold McMillan is on the Wizengamot."

"Bloody Hufflepuffs," Rabastan growled.

Severus inclined his head in agreement, then added coolly, "I would enjoy seeing Potter taken down a peg or two… in fact, I would venture to suggest that I would enjoy this quite a bit more than either of you… but there are other families to be concerned about as well."

"True," Malfoy consented. The three Slytherins were silent for a moment longer, then Malfoy added lightly, "My father has drafted a bit of legislation you'll enjoy, Severus."

"Oh?"

"About werewolves."

Snape's eyes glittered malevolently. "Indeed?"

It was a good thing that Vanessa was still clutching James' arm, because otherwise James would have undoubtedly reached for his wand to hex Snape and the other two without any thoughts to the consequences. But this wasn't Hogwarts, this was Knockturn Alley, and a duel here could end with something far worse than a visit to the Hospital Wing.

But James was seething, and without really thinking, he slammed his fist against the nearest wall to let out some of his pent-up rage. His skin slapped against the cement with a dull thud, hardly loud enough to draw attention.

But Snape must have been on guard for anything out of place, because he spun around almost immediately, wand held high.

James tensed, but Vanessa was faster, and a moment later he felt something cold and wet trickle down the back of his neck and realized that she had cast a Disillusionment charm.

"Nothing there," Snape muttered.

"Probably a cat," Malfoy said in an off-hand manner. He glanced down at the ornate silver watch he was wearing and frowned. "I need to return to Narcissa. I will let you both know if Bella has any luck." And without waiting for a reply, he turned on the spot and was gone.

Rabastan followed a moment later, but Snape lingered, his eyes peering through the gloom. He stared straight at James and Vanessa but did not see them. Still, the suspicion remained in his eyes even as he Apparated away.

James let out a breath. "Quick thinking," he said to Vanessa.

She gave him a pointed look and said, "I _am_ a reporter. I know all the tricks of the trade, even if I don't have to use most of them." She stepped away from James, removed the charm on both of them so that they were clearly visible once more, then folded her arms over her chest and gave him an appraising stare. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" she demanded.

"I don't even know," James answered, idly mussing up his hair as he thought back over everything he had heard.

"I recognized Lucius Malfoy. He called one of the others Rabastan. Was that Rabastan Lestrange?"

"Yes, and Severus Snape," James answered. "He was in my year, in Slytherin. Clearly, they want the Ministry to adopt more pureblood elitist views." He rubbed at his eyes wearily.

"I know Ignatius Prewitt," Vanessa said, "but who is Araminta Melliflua? And which Black are you friends with?"

"Sirius Black," James explained. "He's my best mate. He was sorted into Gryffindor and refused to accept his family's pureblood ideals, so they disowned him. Blasted him off the family tree and everything."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Vanessa said.

James shrugged carelessly. He knew it had bothered Sirius in the beginning, even if his friend had refused to admit to that. But time had passed and Sirius had accepted and then even relished not being part of the family. "He doesn't seem to mind anymore. Never really wanted to be part of that family, anyway."

"And Melliflua?

"Araminta Melliflua is part of the extended Black family. I think she's a cousin of Sirius' mother. She's old, maybe in her late nineties, and completely batty. A couple years ago, she tried to get the Ministry to legalize Muggle hunting. My dad hates her, but despite the fact that she is an absolute nutcase, people do listen to her."

"And Bella… would that be Bellatrix Lestrange?"

James nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Another nutcase in the Black family." He sighed heavily. "I just wish I knew what they were planning. It's clear that they want the Ministry to adopt more pureblood elitist legislation, but beyond that… I just don't know."

"They want to remove those who disagree with them," Vanessa said. "Abraxas Malfoy and his friends must be plotting to get rid of our parents' generation, and Lucius Malfoy and his friends are determining how to prevent their own generation from joining the Ministry." She furrowed her brow, and added, "They seem only to care about pureblood families, though. The ones they mentioned… you, the Weasleys, the McKinnons, the Vances, the McMillans… I guess they don't see a reason to worry about half-bloods or Muggleborns."

James nodded wearily. "Don't know why. Also don't know what exactly Bellatrix Lestrange has to do with any of this, or what she's working on, but it seems to be related to Sirius and I…" He trailed off thoughtfully, then added, "I guess I'd better warn Sirius."

"It sounded as though she was going to… _encourage_… him to rejoin his family," Vanessa suggested.

"That won't happen," James answered firmly and without the slightest bit of hesitation. "I'm his family now. Me, Remus, Peter… we're his family."

James glanced down at Vanessa and noticed that while her eyes showed an interest in this particular subject, she was also extraordinarily pale and there was a definite wariness about her expression. It was then that he remembered that they were supposed to be on a date, and it had to be a good date or he would lose the bet.

He grimaced inwardly.

"Maybe we should go back to Diagon Alley," he suggested. "This date doesn't seem to be going so well."

"Actually, I was having a good time," Vanessa replied, giving James a slight smile. "It's definitely unlike any other date I've been on."

"So do I win?" James asked eagerly.

"Hm… we'll see. Date's not over yet, is it? I'd still like to see those fireworks."

James reached for her hand. "Alright then," he said with a cocky wink. "They are very good and it would be a shame to waste them."

And they Apparated away.


	9. What Scares Me

Chapter Nine: What Scares Me

Vanessa Lovely tapped her quill against her roll of parchment and sighed. It had been a long time since she had been so completely unable to think of what to write, and it was frustrating her. Her editor wanted a story, and she didn't really have one to give.

James had won the bet. Or, rather, she had let him win. She'd had an enjoyable time, even during their short excursion into Knockturn Alley. Actually, that might have been the highlight of the entire evening. And since he had won the bet, and so she couldn't write much about the Wimbourne Wasps.

At least, she couldn't write anything negative. But she could do a profile on the new recruits, with a special emphasis on James. It would be change of pace for her, and her readers might be a little surprised at the lack of gossip, but James _was_ a Potter and he had made the team right out of Hogwarts and _that_ accomplishment made this a story.

It would have to do for now.

* * *

><p>Lily knew she had monopolized almost all of the conversation, but she just couldn't stop talking. As soon as Caradoc had asked her about her day, she'd started into a monologue, and now the words were pouring out of her at an incredible rate, and showed no signs of slowing down.<p>

"It's just not fair," Lily said, stabbing her fork moodily into the potatoes on her plate. "I don't mind not being the best, and I don't mind not being noticed, but to be purposefully ignored…? I have to work twice as hard to get even half the praise now. And why? Because I think we should try to help werewolves? It's ridiculous!"

"It is," Caradoc agreed.

"Although I'm not sure how much of it is even because of that and how much is because I'm Muggleborn," Lily continued. "I guess I didn't realize what kind of prejudice I would face. I was so… so _sheltered_ at Hogwarts. But if Hogwarts was like the rest of the world, I would never have been made a prefect, let alone Head Girl."

"Hogwarts isn't like the rest of the world," Caradoc murmured.

"Thanks to Dumbledore," Lily said with a nod. "I don't think I really appreciated how much he did for us Muggleborns. The school was… things were just so different." She ran a hand through her hair, yanking in annoyance when her fingers got stuck in a few tangled waves. "I wish I had been a little bit better prepared for this, though. I wish I had known what to expect."

"You'll do fine," Caradoc said reassuringly. "You aren't someone who just gives in or gives up. You'll do fine."

"But that's just it," Lily protested, "I _don't_ know that. Maybe at Hogwarts all I needed was a little perseverance and the determination to ignore most of Slytherin House, but things are different here. I might not give in and I might not give up, but that doesn't mean I'll succeed. What if I can't? What if the odds are too much against me?"

She dropped her fork onto the table with a heavy sigh.

"Then you keep fighting," Caradoc said. "That's what matters; that you keep standing up for the things you believe in."

"I'm just not used to this world. I thought I was, but… Things are still awkward between Emma and I. I know that they shouldn't be. I know that we resolved everything. But I'm fairly certain she still thinks that I'm wasting my time on this potion, and I just… I just wish I could get her to see that it is never a waste of time to help people." She grimaced, then added, "I don't think she's really forgiven me for comparing her to the Greengrasses, either."

"You're still friends," Caradoc said. "You'll work it out."

"Will we?" Lily wondered quietly. "I know it's a horribly uncharitable thought for me to have, but I can't help wondering if the differences between most purebloods and Muggleborns are just too great to be truly bridged." Caradoc stiffened, and Lily hurried on to say, "_Most_ purebloods. Not all of them. Obviously."

Caradoc frowned, and asked curiously, "Why do you say that?"

"History of Magic is a required class for the first five years at Hogwarts and we all take OWLS in it," Lily answered. "But Muggle Studies isn't even an option until 3rd year and it isn't required at all. So many people don't take it and…" She stopped abruptly and sighed. "I've been talking way too much."

Caradoc smiled warmly. "This obviously matters to you, Lils. I like that things matter to you. I like how strongly you feel about everything." He leaned forward and added seriously, "And I am actually interested in your opinion on Muggle Studies and History of Magic."

Lily hesitated, but Caradoc's clear eyes held nothing but honest curiosity, and she said a bit reluctantly, "Alright, but stop me when you get bored."

Caradoc chuckled. "I won't get bored," he replied, waving his hand for her to continue.

Lily chewed her bottom lip for a moment, arranging her thoughts, then said, "I understand that History of Magic is important. It's a history class, after all, and everyone should learn about their history. We can take a lot of lessons from the past. We can use it to make a better future. But… but it is a history of the wizarding world, and it leaves out everything that happened in the Muggle world."

"And you think things that happen in the Muggle world are important, even if they don't affect us?" Caradoc surmised.

Lily nodded emphatically. "In Muggle schools, students learn about the history of the world. They learn about things that affect us, things that Britain has played a role in – Canadian, Indian, African history and the like – but they also learn about events that had nothing to do with us."

"Why?"

"So we can learn from other people's past successes and mistakes, I guess," Lily answered. "And because… because things _do_ affect us, even if we think they don't. It's a small world… and it is even smaller when you have magic."

"True," Caradoc agreed.

"And… the thing is… we all live in the same world now. I know that a lot of purebloods never interact with Muggles. I know witches and wizards can make their houses Unplotable and Apparate or Floo directly to the Ministry or wherever they work, but… but we do live in the same world as Muggles. The same country, the same city, the same neighborhoods…" She trailed off for a moment, then cleared her throat and added, "And those of us who have Muggle family members are never going to leave the Muggle world completely. We might spend ninety-nine percent of our time in the wizarding world, but we'll still have that one percent in the Muggle world with our Muggle families and maybe even Muggle friends… Muggleborns in particular… we're _from_ Muggle families. We grew up in that world. We were part of that world for the first eleven years of our lives, and then to pretend that once we enter the magical world nothing from the Muggle world matters anymore…" Again, she trailed off and sighed. "It just seems wrong," she finished.

"So you think Muggle Studies should be required?" Caradoc questioned.

"Maybe. I don't know. I just know that… that the way things are right now, Muggleborns are expected to enter the magical world and leave everything else behind. And for what? So we can have people like Greengrass tell us that we aren't good enough?"

"You are good enough," Caradoc said firmly. "You were the best in our year at potions."

"Not the best," Lily murmured, and thought idly of Severus.

"Fine," Caradoc said, "second-best."

Lily smiled sadly, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. She hadn't touched any of the potatoes on her plate, and now she found she wasn't really hungry for them. Caradoc had finished his own meal a while ago – probably during her nearly endless monologue – and was clearly just waiting for her.

She usually ate everything on her plate. Her mother had always been adamant that she and Petunia finish everything they had been served at each meal, and it was a habit that had stuck with her through Hogwarts. She never took a serving that was larger than she could eat, and she never let things go to waste.

But this time was different.

"I think I'm done," she said.

Caradoc raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "I'll pay, then," he said, digging a handful of coins out of his pocket. "Do you want to walk around Hogsmeade a bit? It's nearly dark, but I think we have a few minutes of sunlight left."

"That sounds nice," Lily said.

Ten minutes later, they were wandering around Hogsmeade. Most of the shops had closed, but Lily wasn't really in the mood for shopping. She was content to merely walk about, holding Caradoc's hand in her own and enjoying the companionable silence that lingered between them.

Outside the door leading into the Three Broomsticks was a newspaper stand filled with copies of the _Daily Prophet_. The couple paused and Caradoc picked up a copy, tossed a coin into the magically animated payment collector – a box that bit anyone who took a copy of the newspaper without paying – and scanned it.

"Anything noteworthy?" Lily asked.

"Hm… new legislation regulating the use of gold cauldrons, a proposal to add another floor to St. Mungo's, and it looks like Crouch is angling to be appointed Minister… but Fudge is, too. That should be interesting."

"I don't know much about either of them," Lily admitted.

"Crouch is part of a very well-respected pureblood family, but a lot of people don't like him," Caradoc said thoughtfully. "He's harsh and strict and tries to regulate pretty much everything. My father said once that Crouch pretty much wants martial law. Believes in increasing Auror powers and that sort of thing."

"And what does your father think of Fudge?" Lily asked.

"That he is well-liked, genial, friendly, and a bumbling fool," Caradoc answered. He flipped to another page and furrowed his brow in surprise. "Hey, there's an article on Potter in here."

"What does it say?" Lily asked, leaning into Caradoc so she could see the article.

"It's a profile. He's a new reserve Chaser on the Wimbourne Wasps," Caradoc answered, holding the paper out so she could see the article better. "That's impressive, you know. Professional Quidditch teams almost never take anyone right out of Hogwarts."

Lily didn't say anything. For reasons she couldn't explain – or possibly just didn't want to face – the fact that James Potter had been selected for the team upset her. Did he always get everything he wanted?

"One more thing for him to be arrogant about," she said with a huff, scanning the article.

It was positively glowing. The reporter in question – and Lily glanced at the byline and snorted at the name Vanessa Lovely – seemed only to have positive things to say about her subject.

She frowned suddenly and rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had read something wrong. She read the quote again, just to make sure.

_When this reporter commented on his flying prowess at a recent practice, he brushed aside the compliment and explained humbly, "I only managed to score so many times because I had some very good setups from other players. It's a team sport. Besides, I scored six goals, so that's sixty points. Carlotta [Prewitt – the Wasps' starting Seeker] caught the Snitch, so that's a hundred and fifty points. You want to write about the most valuable player? You should write about her._

Lily would have never used the word humble to describe James, but she couldn't deny that she had seen him play Quidditch at Hogwarts and he always had been a team player. He would show off on his broom frequently, either before a game or whenever he nicked that Snitch in between games, but once a match started he was always focused.

He was slightly less insufferable then.

So in some ways, she reflected, it was really ironic that she liked him best when he was playing Quidditch and yet despised him most when he was messing up his hair and talking about his flying talents.

"This Vanessa Lovely must really like Potter," Caradoc said thoughtfully. "She usually writes very different types of articles. Ones filled with sordid details and gossip."

"Figures even she would act differently around Potter," Lily muttered sourly, but some part of her wondered if maybe the reporter had seen something in him, something that was only there when he was playing Quidditch.

After all, she'd called him _humble_.

"Good use of that line, though," Caradoc said, tapping the quote Lily had just read.

"Line?" Lily repeated.

"Oh, yeah," Caradoc explained, "everyone knows you give credit to the Seeker. Fans love it because it makes you seem like a team player and not just in the game to show off. And if the Seeker is a girl, it makes all the female fans like you even more, because professional Quidditch is such a male dominated sport that it is rare for women to get credit." He smiled at Lily. "It's a good line, Potter was smart to use it."

Lily felt sudden disappointment, and didn't know why. It wasn't like she had really expected James to be sincere in passing off the praise, but the fact that he had done it because he knew it would garner more fans…

She shook her head. On the Quidditch pitch or not, he was still the same James Potter.

She shoved the paper back at Caradoc and turned away moodily.

"Did I say something wrong?" Caradoc asked, grabbing Lily's arm. He could tell that she was upset, but likely had no idea why. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Lily said, shaking her head. "It's nothing."

But she didn't meet his gaze.

Why did this bother her so much? Why was she actually disappointed?

* * *

><p>In retrospect, she could admit that it was an incredibly stupid thing to do.<p>

It hadn't seemed that way at the time, of course. Caradoc had left, and though he had wanted to accompany her home to make sure that she arrived safely, she had shrugged him off with excuses about needing to do a little bit more shopping in Hogsmeade before all the shops closed for the night. He'd kissed her quickly and taken his leave, and she'd wandered in and out of stores.

The sun had set and the night air was damp and chilly by the time she had finished purchasing everything that she wanted. And she should have gone home then. It would have been the smart thing to do.

But the conversation with Caradoc had left her feeling nostaligic, and so instead of walking home, she turned her footsteps towards the path that wound its way out of Hogsmeade and towards Hogwarts. She walked quietly, lost in her own thoughts, and paid no attention to her surroundings.

Her thoughts seemed to be filled with James Potter.

It frustrated her to no end that she couldn't stop thinking about him even when he was no longer a part of her life. Hogwarts was over and she had moved on to other things. She had no reason to even talk to James again. She didn't need to see him, didn't need to listen to his cocky words or watch as he messed up his hair and gave her that stupid, arrogant grin.

And yet…

The path turned around the bend and Lily forcefully shoved thoughts of James from her mind as Hogwarts rose before her. She could see the castle through the gates and across the sprawling grounds; its distant silhouette was outlined by the white light of the moon. The Forbidden Forest curved out of sight on one side of the castle, fading into the darkness until the trees were indistinguishable from each other. The lake glittered, reflecting the light of the moon.

Maybe one day, when she was older and had a bit more influence in the magical world, she'd talk to Dumbledore about the History of Magic curriculum. Maybe one day she would get someone other than Caradoc to listen to her, to understand what she was saying, what she meant.

Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes. It was late, and she really needed to get back to her flat in London.

She turned, prepared to walk back down the path into Hogsmeade.

It was mostly silent. The wind whistled as it rustled the leaves on the branches of the few trees that dotted the landscape. But this part of the area was almost entirely devoid of such trees. The path curved its way through rocky terrain, partially hidden among small hills. It was a stark contrast to the lush green of Hogwarts.

There was no one about, and Lily shivered, feeling suddenly very foolish for coming up here alone so late at night.

But she couldn't explain the origin of that feeling, because it seemed inconceivable that there would be any danger this close to Hogwarts. So she shrugged it off as nerves and started back down the path.

She shouldn't have shrugged off the feeling. She shouldn't have come up here alone in the first place.

She shouldn't have come at all.

She heard something. Something fast and soft, like a small animal darting over the rocky ground. It was followed by the sound of something heavier scrambling along the hills around her, and then the sound of rocks coming loose and rolling down the sloping ground.

A larger animal?

She let out a breath. It was probably just prey running from a predator. A rabbit fleeing from a fox, or something similar.

Why was she so jumpy?

She heard it then. Loud and clear and chilling.

A howl.

Her eyes darted around frantically, trying to locate the source of the noise. But even as she did that, another thought occurred to her, and she slowly lifted her gaze towards the night sky. Towards the moon.

The _full_ moon.

The thing – an indistinguishable mass of shaggy fur and gnashing teeth – burst into view, racing up the side of a hill not far from Lily. Its eyes and snout were lifted towards the full moon as it howled, seemingly unaware of anything else around it besides that orb of light glowing in the night sky.

Then it saw Lily, and froze.

And Lily screamed.

She should have Apparated. She should have drawn the wand from her robes and defended herself. She should have done something – _anything_ – but she felt frozen to the spot as though her entire body had turned to lead. She couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breath.

The werewolf launched itself at her, tearing down the side of the hill, kicking up dust and dirt and knocking rocks loose as it did so.

"Oh, Merlin…" Lily whispered, and strangely, the sound of her own voice was what it took to jolt her back into action. She dropped the shopping bags she was holding – chocolate and books and a new scarf spilling out onto the ground – and plunged one hand into her robes, reaching for her wand.

The wolf never reached her. Something else came bounding down the hill and practically threw itself at the wolf, knocking it away from Lily. The wolf snarled and turned to face the newcomer, and Lily just barely had time to see antlers and long legs and wonder what a stag was doing so close to Hogwarts before the two animals became embroiled in a bitter fight.

The stag lowered its antlers and charged at the wolf, forcing it backwards, away from Lily. The wolf growled and swiped at the stag with its front paws, sharp claws attempting to tears into the stag's hide. It barred white teeth and emitted a sound somewhere between a snarl and a howl, then launched itself into the air and landed on top of the stag, driving it to the ground.

Lily draw her wand and tried desperately to think of a spell. The practical applications of Defense Against the Dark Arts had never been her forte. She could read the books and memorize the facts and write the essays, but when faced with a simulated fight in class, her mind usually went blank.

Not this time. This time, she acted without even thinking, desperate to save herself and, for some bizarre, inexplicable reason, equally desperate to save the stag. Jabbing her wand outwards, she cried "_Ventus_." A wind erupted from the tip of her wand and pushed the wolf off the stag, throwing it into the ground several feet away.

There were scratches on the stag's back, starting where the front right leg met the rest of the body spreading out from there. The animal looked exhausted and even a little bit stunned by what had happened, and it staggered to its feet, eyes darting warily between Lily and the wolf.

Then the black dog appeared.

It was large and shaggy and Lily, who didn't believe in Divination, who didn't believe in signs and omens, who didn't believe in fate or destiny, couldn't help but wonder if it was the Grim.

Was she going to die tonight?

The wolf charged at her, the stag stumbled in between them, and Lily screamed again.

The dog hurtled itself at the wolf, issuing a guttural growl from deep in its throat, and pushing it away from both Lily and the stag. The wolf snarled in response and scratched with its claws, tearing into the skin on the dog's left forearm. The dog gnashed its teeth and raced at the werewolf, pushing it backwards.

The stag lowered its antlers and charged at the werewolf, joining the dog in its battle. They fought, claws and teeth flashing, growls and howls shattering the still night, and somehow working as a team, the two animals managed to force the werewolf away from Lily.

For a moment, the stag turned and looked back at Lily, and there was some emotion in its eyes that the redhead could not decipher.

Lily didn't pause to try to figure it out, though. She turned and fled instead.

Once she was gone, the wolf seemed to calm down a bit, and it stopped fighting quite as hard. Soon it stopped fighting completely, and reluctantly allowed the stag and the dog to corral it away from the path.

The silence descended again, once more only broken by the faint whistling of the wind through the small clumping of trees. The moon – pale and innocuous looking – cast its glow over everything, illuminating the path, the signs of struggle and drops of blood that were scattered about the ground, and the few shopping bags filled with books, sweets, and a brand new scarf that had been left behind by the terrified witch.


	10. Is That While You're Telling Me Stories

Chapter Ten: Is That While You're Telling Me Stories

"How are you feeling, Moony?"

Remus blinked a few times and stared at Sirius blankly, almost as if he didn't know who the other wizard was. Then he rubbed the back of his head and asked, "What happened?"

Sirius sighed. "We had an… incident," he said, his eyes darting over to James. At Remus' horrified look, he continued quickly, "Don't worry, you didn't bite anyone."

The four boys were crammed into Remus' room at his parents' house. Remus was lying on his bed, exhausted and sore from the previous night's transformation. Sirius was perched on the edge of the bed next to Remus, a bandage wrapped around his left arm. Peter was sitting on the floor by the door, his knees pulled into his chest, his expression glum and slightly distracted. James was leaning against the wall opposite the bed, his eyes fixed on the small window beside him, his expression unreadable.

Remus sat up in bed. There were gashes on his body, tears in his skin. Everything was wrapped up in white bandages – no doubt his mother's handiwork – and there were three vials of potions sitting on the table next to the bed.

Healing draughts.

He turned his attention back to his friends. "What happened?" he asked again, trying to keep his voice light so as to not betray the trepidation he felt.

It had been a long time since he had been this injured after a transformation. With his friends around, he usually escaped each full moon with little more than a few scratches, bumps, and bruises. This was different. This was bad… although still not as bad as it had been when he was younger, before his friends had mastered their own transformations.

As usual, his memories of the previous night were hazy, but he knew perfectly well that, with his friends around, there was only one thing that could cause him to lose control of the wolf as badly as he had.

The wolf had smelled human blood.

"It was fine in the beginning," Sirius explained. "We left the Shrieking Shack, went into the hills around Hogsmeade. Things were going great… until…"

"I smelled blood," Remus said flatly.

Sirius nodded. "You took off. Prongs and I chased you, tried to get you back…" He shrugged. "We stopped you from hurting her. I mean, you absolutely terrified her, but you didn't cause any physical damage."

Remus eyed the bandage on Sirius' arm and the scratches just barely peeking out of James' shirt. Clearly he had done physical damage, just not to anyone who had been human at the time.

"Who was it?" he asked. "Who did I… who did I go after?"

The room was silent for a moment, then James said tightly and without looking at Remus, "Evans."

"Lily?" Remus demanded, surprised. When James nodded mutely, Remus glanced over at Sirius and Peter for an explanation. He had expected it to be one of the residents of Hogsmeade who had perhaps been out for a walk late at night and had stumbled across them. But what had Lily been doing there?

Sirius didn't seem to have an answer to that, and he merely shrugged again to indicate his lack of an explanation.

"But she's okay?" Remus asked hurriedly.

"She's fine," Sirius answered reassuringly.

"And… and you guys?" Remus asked, nodding to Sirius' arm.

"We're fine, mate," Sirius replied in a placating manner. "Your mum patched me up after she'd taken care of you and Prongs."

Remus raised an eyebrow at that. His mother had long since learned that her son's three friends not only knew what Remus was, but were going to insist on invading her home after every full moon as long as Remus was there. In fact, she seemed to revel in that, in the knowledge that Remus had friends who didn't care that he was a werewolf and actually wanted to help him.

They came now at each full moon to escort him to the Shrieking Shack and they brought him back the next day. They didn't tell her exactly where they were going – they didn't tell Dumbledore, either, though they doubted the Headmaster would mind that they were still using the Shack – just fed her some line about the Potters owning an out-of-the-way cottage that was always unoccupied and was the perfect place for Remus to transform away from people.

And she didn't know that they were unregistered Animagi. There were some secrets they just couldn't tell anyone, even someone as loving as Mrs. Lupin.

"What did you tell her when she asked how you had gotten injured?" Remus asked curiously.

"We told her James and I were in a fight last night, but we didn't want to go to St. Mungo's to get cleaned up because it would mean not being here when you woke up and we were concerned about how the transformation had gone," Sirius replied.

"And she believed that?" Remus asked skeptically.

Sirius grinned. "I can be very convincing when the need arises, Moony. You know that."

Remus rolled his eyes, then turned to his other two friends. "What about you guys? Prongs? Wormtail? Everything okay?"

Peter looked at him briefly, then averted his eyes. "Everything's fine," he said quickly and in an entirely unconvincing tone.

Remus frowned and was about to comment on this, but Sirius was already speaking again. "What's gotten into you, Prongs?" he demanded, looking at James. "You've been acting strange."

"Well," Remus muttered under his breath, "I did just try to _eat_ the love of his life."

"Nah, it's no that," Sirius answered carelessly, waving away Remus' comment. "He was acting like this before, too. And you weren't up to your usual standards last night. You let Moony jump on you and didn't just throw him off with your antlers like you usually do. You were distracted. Why?"

James rubbed at his eyes and then sighed. "It's nothing," he said half-heartedly. "I was just distracted by… things."

"I _jumped_ on you?" Remus demanded. "Do I normally do that?"

Even if he had better control of the wolf when his friends were around, he still didn't ever remember what exactly happened during the transformations, and it bothered him to no end that he couldn't recall what it was he had done. Particularly when his friends ended up with cuts and bruises that were clearly his fault.

"It's not nothing," Sirius said. "So tell us. Come on, Prongs. Out with it."

James hesitated, then said, "You remember that I had a date with Vanessa Lovely?"

"The bet," Sirius agreed. "I can't believe I forgot to ask how it went. Did you win?"

James grinned and said in a slightly cocky tone, "_Of course_ I won. Girls always want a second date with me."

"Except Evans," Sirius replied with a smirk.

"Evans doesn't count," James answered, frowning, "because we never went on a first date. If she just gave me a chance, if she just agreed on one date… she'd definitely want a second one."

Sirius caught Remus' gaze, and the two of them rolled their eyes.

"Anyway, Vanessa and I decided to go to Knockturn Alley," James continued his story slowly, and it was a sign of how well the three boys in the room knew James that they didn't bother asking why he would want to take a girl to that particular place on a date. "And we ran into Malfoy, Snape, and Rabastan Lestrange."

Sirius' expression darkened.

"Well, it was more like we spied on them," James continued, still staring out the window. "They were talking… plotting."

"Plotting?"

James nodded grimly. "Yeah. I think Abraxas Malfoy and some of his friends and trying to get people who disagree with him kicked out of the Ministry. A lot of the old pureblood families… the ones who aren't complete prats… They mentioned the McKinnons and the Vances and a few others. And Lucius Malfoy was talking about how to keep me from taking my father's place… though Snape said I wasn't a threat to them," his voice grew hard and his fingers clenched into fists, "and I guess Bellatrix is trying to convince Sirius to rejoin the family. Or something like that."

Sirius curled his lip disdainfully. "Won't happen," he said. "_Ever_."

Remus let out a long breath and said, "They're _always_ trying to get people kicked out of the Ministry, Prongs."

"I know," James agreed. "But this felt… different. Besides… they were talking about us. You, me, Padfoot. It was personal." He paused and gave Peter a critical look before adding, "Apparently Wormtail is safe from their plotting, though. I guess that's one good thing."

"Safe," Peter said in a slightly-higher-than-normal voice. "Right. Good. It's good to be safe."

Remus gave Peter a confused look, surprised by the anxiety in his voice, but Peter was looking at James and didn't notice.

"They did seem to only be focusing on the purebloods," James added after a moment. "And Peter's a half-blood. So maybe…"

"I am, too," Remus pointed out. "Or… well, they think I am because they consider my mum to be no better than a Muggle."

"I never got that," Peter said quietly, glancing over at Remus for a brief moment before looking down at his knees. "I mean, Muggleborns clearly have magic. Your mother isn't a Muggle. I know it's more ridiculous pureblood elitism, but it doesn't even make _sense_."

"As opposed to all the other forms of pureblood elitism which do make sense?" Sirius snapped.

Peter stared at him. "What? No, I didn't say that…"

Sirius clearly wanted to argue the point, but Remus cut in, "_Of course_ you didn't say that." He shot Sirius an annoyed look, but was far too exhausted to actually verbally admonish his friend. He could talk to Sirius about it later, about how wrong it was to take his own frustrations out on Peter.

_Obviously_ Peter hadn't been spurting pureblood propaganda.

James didn't even seem to notice that a potential argument had just been averted. "They were talking about my dad. And about passing new anti-werewolf legislation. And…" He ran a hand through his hair and turned hard eyes towards his friends. "Snape doesn't think they have any reason to fear me. That I'm too interested in Quidditch to continue my dad's work." His tone was positively glacial as he finished, "He's wrong. He's really, _really_ wrong."

"That's the spirit, Prongs," Sirius said cheerfully, apparently forgetting about his anger at Peter.

"So that's why you were distracted last night?" Remus asked. "That's why I was apparently able to maul you?"

"It wasn't you, Moony," James said immediately. "It was the wolf. No one blames you for…"

There was a knock at the door, and then Mrs. Lupin poked her head into the room. "Remus, darling," she said softly, "there's a very pretty young lady in the parlor asking to see you."

There was a stunned silence in the room for just a moment, then James demanded, "Have you been holding out on us, Moony?"

"I… no. No, I don't… who is it?" Remus asked, just as flabbergasted as his friends.

"Ah… Lily Evans, I believe," Mrs. Lupin replied. "I told her that you weren't feeling well and I would check to see if you were awake. Would you like me to ask her to come back later?"

Remus' mouth had suddenly gone dry. Was it possible that Lily knew? Had she somehow figured out what he was and then realized that he was the one who had attacked her? Oh, Merlin… this could be _bad_.

"Uh, well…" He faltered, glanced over at James and Sirius, unsure. But they both looked just as uneasy as he did.

He couldn't put this off. If she knew… well, she could find him anywhere. He could either talk to her now, or he could talk to her later, because he had a feeling he wasn't going to be able to avoid this conversation forever.

"Can you ask her to wait in the parlor?" Remus said finally. "I'll come down to her. I just… I just need to put on some robes first." And he gestured at his pajamas with an embarrassed half-smile.

"Of course, darling," Mrs. Lupin replied and excused herself from the room.

"What the hell is Evans doing here?" James demanded the moment they were alone again.

"I don't… I don't know…" Remus stammered. "Do you think… is it possible that she…?"

"No," Sirius said firmly. Remus gave him a disbelieving look, but Sirius just scoffed and said, "Do you really think she's managed to figure out that you're a werewolf and that it was you last night? That's ridiculous, Moony. She probably… it's probably just a coincidence that she is here this morning."

"A coincidence. Right." Remus wasn't convinced.

"Come on, Moony," Sirius said. "It's fine. You worry too much."

"Why is Evans here?" James asked again, glaring at Moony.

"Prongs, relax," Remus said, holding up his hands in a sign of surrender. "I'm not secretly dating her. You know I would never do that to you."

James frowned, but nodded reluctantly.

Remus climbed wearily from the bed and started hunting for clothing.

When he emerged from his bedroom five minutes later and made his way through the house towards the parlor, he couldn't quite ignore just how nervous he was. James was at his side and Sirius and Peter were at his back, and it felt good to have his friends supporting him, but it still didn't calm his rapidly fraying nerves.

What did Lily know? And more importantly, what did she think about this new knowledge?

She was sitting awkwardly in the parlor, gazing at the fireplace. There was no fire in the grate, so Remus had no idea what it was she saw or why it was so intriguing to her. Or perhaps she wasn't staring at anything at all, but was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to be aware of her surroundings.

He cleared his throat as he entered the parlor.

Lily started, her eyes jumping to his face. Then she looked past him, at the other three, and seemed very unsure.

"Uh… Remus… your mother didn't say you had friends over," Lily said, rising to her feet. "I… didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's alright, Lily," Remus said, trying to sound natural. As though it was perfectly normal for her to show up at his parents' house on the morning after a full moon. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Lily said. "In… in private."

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but James beat him to it. "Anything you want to say to Remus, you can say to all four of us," he said firmly.

"It's personal," Lily said, annoyance coloring her tone. "It's not…" She stopped, shook her head. "It's really something I'd rather just talk to Remus about since it's really none of your business."

"Remus is our friend," James snapped.

"Prongs!" Remus interrupted sharply. If Lily wasn't here to talk about him being a werewolf, then this entire conversation was probably incredibly aggravating and bewildering to her. She would have no way of knowing that they were afraid of what she might say to Remus in private, of the things she could do with the knowledge that she had.

Lily looked at Remus. "Prongs…" she repeated softly, as though saying it to herself. She looked at James, at the gash on his shoulder, the part of it that could be seen through his shirt.

"Look, Lily, of course we can talk in private," Remus said quickly. "I just…" He took a step towards her, and she took a step back. He stopped, surprised. "Lily?"

She looked past him to Sirius, and there was something oddly calculating in her eyes. When she looked back at Remus, her expression was filled with disbelief.

It morphed quickly into disgust.

"Never mind," she said quickly. "I… I don't need to talk anymore. I need to… I need to go."

And she bolted from the room.

* * *

><p>Ever since their conversation about werewolves, things had been occasionally strained between Emma and Lily. They had made up as best they could, forgiven each other for their thoughtless words, but it hadn't quite erased the resentment that still lingered. It wasn't there all the time, but it showed up enough for them to be unable to forget it.<p>

So when Lily marched into her room and dropped her bag and a bunch of books down on the table at her work station and glowered angrily at her cauldron, Emma wasn't entirely sure if she should approach the temperamental witch. Had they been best of friends, she would have done it without the slightest bit of hesitation. But when Lily was in this kind of mood…

Well, Emma wasn't sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of another of Lily's rants.

"Problems, Evans?" a silky voice asked, and Emma looked over at the blonde witch approaching them.

"What do you want, Greengrass?" Lily demanded bitterly.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" Eliza asked with a light laugh. "Don't you look a fright."

It was true, Emma realized. Not that Lily looked _that_ bad, of course, but her skin was pale and almost ashen, and there were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was just a little bit more out of control than usual.

"Go away," Lily said.

"Oh… and where is that clever wit I'm so used to?" Eliza asked mockingly.

Then Lily did something very, very uncharacteristic of her.

She drew her wand, pointed it directly at Eliza, and spat, "Go. Away."

Emma intervened before the situation could spiral out of control. She grabbed Lily's wrist and yanked downwards, drawing her wand away from Eliza, then snapped at the blonde, "Get away from us, or I'll let her hex you into oblivion. In fact, I'll even help her."

Eliza's eyes had widened and she had taken a step back at Lily's unexpected outburst. Now, however, she was giving Lily a very appraising look.

"Touchy, aren't we?" she murmured, raising an eyebrow pointedly before sauntering away.

Emma would have liked to believe that it was her threats that made Eliza back off, but she had a feeling that the other witch's reticence to continue the conversation was more due to the look of utter hatred on Lily's face than anything else. Lily didn't look entirely stable at the moment, and she might actually have hexed Eliza, regardless of the fact that such an action could get her kicked out of the program.

Eliza wasn't stupid. She didn't want to be on the receiving end of Lily's anger.

Once Eliza was gone, Emma let go of Lily's wrist and turned to face her friend. "Are you out of your mind?" she demanded in a low hiss. "What is wrong with you?"

Lily pocketed her wand and shrugged. "She would have deserved it," she grumbled.

"And you would have been kicked out of the program," Emma retorted. "Just ignore her. I thought that's what we had agreed we would do."

Lily didn't say anything, just started unpacking books from her bag.

"Lily!" Emma snapped, annoyed. "You can't just ignore me."

"You're right, okay!" Lily retorted hotly. "I shouldn't have done that. You're right. You're right about everything. Are you _happy_ now?"

Emma opened her mouth to say something, and then realized she had no idea what to say. "Uh…"

Lily turned away from her.

Emma looked down, and that was when she noticed that the books on Lily's desk weren't about the Wolfsbane potion or any of the theory behind it. They were basic books, the kind a person would read when just starting to learn about healing potions. Nothing too advanced.

She picked up one of them and looked at Lily questioningly. "What's going on? Why do you have these?"

Lily glanced at the book, then up at Emma, then away. "I've decided to give up on Wolfsbane," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I need to pick a new potion. I got these to… to help me figure out what to do…" She trailed off with a sigh. "Unless you have any suggestions?"

"But… but… what happened to helping werewolves and fighting prejudice?" Emma demanded incredulously.

"I was wrong," Lily said flatly, "and you were right. It's not worth it. The potion…" She shrugged. "It probably wouldn't have worked anyway."

"You're nearly six weeks through the program," Emma protested. "If you start a new potion now, you'll never be finished in time…"

Lily shrugged again. "I will be if I work hard enough," she said.

Emma stared at her, then down at the book. The whole situation felt wrong; Lily never gave up on things. She'd only known the redhead a few weeks and she already knew that this sense of defeat in Lily's attitude was unusual.

"What happened?" Emma pressed. "Why did you change your mind?"

"Doesn't matter," Lily said. "I just… I need to pick something new." She looked up as Healer Lanwick entered the room. "I'm going to ask her. Maybe she has some ideas," she said quietly.

Emma watched in complete disbelief as Lily approached the Healer and spoke to her in a low undertone. The two witches were standing close enough to Eliza's workstation that the blonde could clear hear them, and Emma watched as she looked up and listened with an interested and slightly smug smirk on her face.

Lily must have said something that Eliza found particularly amusing, because her smirk grew into a full-blown grin, and she looked over her shoulder and met Emma's gaze triumphantly.

Emma walked back to her own workstation and pulled out the various ingredients she needed for her potion. But as she did so, she kept one eye on Eliza and Lily and Healer Lanwick, unable to figure out what was happening.

How had everything suddenly gone so wrong?

* * *

><p>Lily had never been to Caradoc's home.<p>

He hadn't invited her back after any of their dates because they just weren't at the point in the relationship when she would actually want to meet his parents. It was fun and pleasant and getting close to serious, but it wasn't there yet. Besides, his house was usually a mess on account of whatever alcohol-induced tantrum his brother had thrown after being dragged out of whatever shady pub he had been at the previous night. It wasn't the kind of place – and those weren't the kind of tantrums – that he wanted his new girlfriend to see.

So when the sound of knocking at the door interrupted Caradoc from reading the paper, it didn't even occur to him that it could be her. He walked to the door and opened it, expecting a neighbor or perhaps one of his other friends…

And a blur of red stumbled into him.

It took him a moment to realize that Lily was crying.

"What is it?" he demanded, pulling back so that he could get a good look at her tearstained face.

She lifted red-rimmed eyes to meet his gaze and said in a choked voice, "I was wrong. I was so wrong. And everyone else… Emma, Lanwick… Merlin, even _Eliza Greengrass_… they were _right_."

And she dissolved into tears once more.

He didn't know what was wrong and he didn't know how to fix it, so he simply wrapped his arms tightly around Lily and held her as she cried into his chest.


	11. You Actually Believe That They Are Real

A/N: A lot of people have had some things to say about Lily's behavior in the last chapter... and I promise that we will get her point of view on it a bit in this chapter. But the chapter got *way* too long and I ended up needing to divide it into two chapters, so you won't get all the details on her thoughts until the chapter after this. So... yeah. Don't abandon the story in frustration with Lily until after the next two chapters... please?

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven: You Actually Believe That They Are Real<p>

By the fourth day of sending letters to Lily, Remus had all but given up on getting her to talk to him. He wasn't sure if the fact that she was ignoring him was a good sign or a bad sign. Did it mean that she knew what he was and what he had nearly done to her? And if she did know that, did her silence mean that she hated him for it? Or did the fact that she didn't appear to be planning to ruin his life, report him to the Ministry, or tell everyone his secret mean that she did not have a problem with what he was?

There was a gnawing worry in the base of his stomach, a feeling that this mess was about to get so much worse. Would his carefully guarded secret now become common knowledge?

The four letters he had sent to Lily were returned unopened by his owl. She had refused to even accept them.

* * *

><p>"I'm worried about Lily," Alice announced to her fiancé.<p>

Frank Longbottom glanced up from the newspaper he was reading and frowned slightly. "Evans? Why?"

Alice shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. "I can't really explain it," she said, "but when I spoke to her yesterday, she seemed… different. She's given up on the Wolfsbane potion, and Mary says she's acting really out of character, too. I don't know what's wrong, but Lily… Lily doesn't give up. Even when she's in the wrong and knows it, she doesn't just… quit."

Frank put down the newspaper and asked, "Did you talk to her about it?"

Alice nodded slowly. "Yeah. She said… she said she realized she'd been wrong about some things and needed to change her opinions. She said…" She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing Lily's grave expression and serious gaze. The conversation had been odd, and it had left Alice with a feeling of trepidation she couldn't ignore.

Lily never gave up. While that was sometimes an endearing trait, it could also be frustrating, particularly in instances when her stubbornness prevented her from acknowledging that she was in the wrong.

But now... now she wasn't in the wrong. Not this time, not about wanting to help werewolves.

So why was she giving up?

"She said she'd been laboring under a delusion," Alice said finally, "and that it was time to grow up."

Frank raised his eyebrows. "That doesn't sound like Evans."

Alice shrugged. "She said the same thing to Mary, apparently. And Mary's worried about her, too. I don't understand what happened. I don't get why… why she would be acting like this."

* * *

><p>"Spattergroit? <em>Really<em>?"

Lily shrugged half-heartedly and glanced over at Emma. The raven-haired witch's face wore an expression of complete disbelief, but Lily didn't seem to notice. Instead, she replied, "Why not?"

Emma shook her head. "There's already a cure for it."

"Bind the liver of a toad around your throat and stand naked in a barrel of eels' eyes during a full moon?" Lily scoffed. "Even if that does work, it would make so much more sense to cure it with a potion." She tapped her wand against the bottom of the cauldron, causing bright blue flames to appear and heat the concoction she was currently brewing. "That way the patient doesn't have to wait until the… the full moon… to get cured."

Emma pretended not to notice the way Lily's voice broke over the words full moon. Lily did have a good point – given how contagious spattergroit was, it would be better to be able to cure it quickly, instead of having to wait until the moon was full.

"It's not really that hard, actually," Lily said, staring at her potion thoughtfully. "I think I've already got some of the basic components figured out."

"Oh?"

"All I have to do is determine why the old wives' tale about toad liver is thought to work. Whatever parts of the disease are being addressed by the different parts of the supposed cure – the toad liver, the eel's eyes, the full moon, the standing naked – if I can capture those essences in potion ingredients…"

She trailed off and scribbled something down on the roll of parchment by her cauldron.

Emma nodded silently. Lily had a determined look on her face, as though she was forcing herself to accept this project, as though she was absolutely resolute that she would enjoy what she was doing. Never mind the fact that she clearly wasn't as passionate about this as she had been about the Wolfsbane potion.

"Lily?" Emma said tentatively. "We're still friends, right. You know you can tell me if something's bothering you."

Lily looked up at Emma. She was wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes, and she said firmly, albeit somewhat unemotionally, "Nothing is wrong, Emma. Everything is just fine. Don't worry about me."

Emma nodded again. As she did so, she saw Benjy Fenwick watching the two of them with a concerned gaze. She hadn't spoken to him much, and all she knew about him was that he didn't like Eliza Greengrass or her pureblood prejudice. But now he was staring at Lily with a concerned look on his face and Emma realized he must have heard most of their conversation.

Fenwick caught her gaze for just a moment before looking away quickly.

Emma let out a long breath, gave Lily one last worried look, and then forced herself to focus on her own potion.

* * *

><p>Remus watched as Lily's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed slightly. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of her glares – they were always directed at James or Sirius instead – and he squirmed uncomfortably under her scrutiny.<p>

Then he reminded himself that he had come here for a reason. So he squared his shoulders and asked in a determined voice, "Can I come in?"

Lily hesitated, evidently looking for some reason to bar him entry to her flat. But she apparently couldn't come up with anything, because after a moment she stepped aside and allowed him to pass through the doorway.

"Is Mary here?" he asked, glancing around quickly.

"No," Lily said shortly, shutting the door with a snap and turning towards Remus once more. Her expression was remarkably unwelcoming. "Did you want something, Remus?"

"I wrote to you four times," Remus said. "You didn't answer. You didn't even open my letters." Lily said nothing, apparently content to make him do all the talking, and so he pushed on relentlessly, "I thought we were on better terms than this. What happened?"

She regarded him with something approaching scorn in her eyes. "What do you think happened?" she asked in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

This was not the Lily Evans that Remus knew. Even when Lily was dealing with James or Sirius, her voice had never held this much contempt.

Remus' stomach twisted into knots.

He turned away from her and walked around the room for a moment, eyes passing over the worn sofa, the chairs, and the fireplace. He had never felt this unsure around Lily, and he had no idea what to say.

Things were different now, he reminded himself. She might potentially have very damaging information on him. She was the one with all the power.

He paused, catching sight of something out of the corner of his eye. The small end-table near the fireplace had a shelf at the bottom of it, and the shelf was piled with books and scrolls of parchment. That in itself was not particularly unexpected given that this was Lily Evans' home and she was even more of a bookworm than he was, but the title of the top book _was_ surprising.

_Wolfsbane_.

He'd heard of the book. He'd heard of the potion, too, and he'd heard that it was all a myth, that there wasn't anything out there that could help a werewolf during the transformation.

Without thinking, he reached down and picked up the book. "What's this?" he asked, turning towards Lily.

Her expression was unreadable as she replied, "Just some old things I haven't gotten rid of yet. I was going to burn them, but… well… I don't like burning books. Even if they are completely useless." An emotion flickered through her eyes as she ended the statement, and Remus got the strangest feeling that she was testing him.

"But why do you have it?" he pressed. "Why would you even…" He trailed off, staring at Lily, but she didn't answer. He searched his mind furiously, trying to come up with an explanation, and it took a moment for the pieces to fall into place. Then he said slowly, "The program you're in… you work on a potion…" He looked down at the scrolls of parchment and the other books on the bottom shelf of the end-table. "Were you working on Wolfsbane?"

Lily reached over and tugged the book out of his hands. "It's not..." She looked uncomfortable, as though she didn't want to be talking about this. "Why did you come here?" she asked finally.

Remus gaped at her. How could she just ignore his question. Didn't she understand how important this was to him?

"Lily, are you working on Wolfsbane?" he said again, moving closer to her. He knew he was practically demanding that she answer the question, that the tone of his voice had changed from civil to something bordering on angry, and this wasn't how he wanted the conversation to go. But he needed to know...

"I was," Lily said simply, then looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

He didn't miss the fact that her reply was in the past-tense.

"And now?" he asked.

She shrugged, still not looking at him, and her skin had flushed a slight pink in either embarrassment or shame. But her tone was hard and determined as she said, "I decided there was no point. I'm working on something else now."

_No point_? Remus wanted to yell at her. He wanted to scream. The emotions welled up in his chest and he could barely keep them under control. He had to bite back the urge to break into hysterical laughter, an action that he suspected would make Lily fear for his sanity even more than she apparently already did.

He knew that this potion was widely regarded as impossible to brew and that the original potioneer had given up because of a lack of progress. But if there was even the slightest chance that Wolfsbane could be made, or that the theory behind it could be adapted to a similar potion…

"Why would you think that?" he asked in a hoarse voice, trying to remain calm.

"It doesn't matter," she said, tossing the book back onto the end-table. "You still haven't answered me. What are you doing here?"

"Is there something wrong with the theory?" Remus pressed. He didn't know much about potion theory, and he didn't have the intuitive grasp of the subject that Lily had. Had she discovered something? Had she learned something that could be useful? If there was something wrong with the theory then it could be changed, modified…

"Remus," Lily said sharply. "What are you doing here?"

"Lily…" he started, still staring at the book.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Lily snapped at him, eyes flashing dangerously, "it just isn't going to work. The potion... it won't fix anything. It won't make the werewolf not a werewolf. Do you get that? It's not going to... It's not going to help. It's a waste of time. So tell me what you are doing here or _leave_."

If Remus had been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that she seemed desperate to change the subject. If he had been calm enough to be perceptive, he would have seen the way her eyes darted away from him repeatedly, as though she was embarrassed. If he had been able to focus on anything besides the promise offered by that potion, he would have heard the forced tone in her voice and realized she was _making_ herself believe this whether she wanted to or not.

Instead, he reeled back, feeling as though she had physically slapped him. He was abruptly breathless, unable to comprehend how she could be so careless in her dismissal of werewolves. He had no doubt at this point in the conversation that she knew he was a werewolf, although he still didn't know _how_ she had figured it out. But the how didn't matter because it was abundantly clear from the icy anger in her tone how little she thought of him.

Because of his _status_.

Helping him - helping all werewolves - was a _waste_.

The hurt and anger warred with each other in his chest, and the anger won. He expected casual discrimination from a lot of people, but he had never expected it from her.

"So that's how you feel, is it?" he snapped.

She lifted her chin defiantly. "Any reason I should think differently?"

"I guess not," he said, and without another word, he turned on his heel and marched out of her flat.

* * *

><p>It was nearly two in the morning when James shoved the door open and stormed into the flat, and that alone was enough to terrify Lily. She, of course, had no idea it was him, and only knew that someone was breaking into her home. The noise of the flat door slamming against the wall woke her, and she snatched the wand from her bedside table and jumped to her feet, instantly wondering if she should flee or fight.<p>

Then she heard his voice.

"Evans!"

She recognized it immediately as James, and though it was two in the morning and despite the incredible raw anger in that one word, she relaxed. It was James, and he might be annoying and arrogant – and right now he might be furious – but he wasn't going to hurt her.

At least, she thought he wasn't. But she'd misjudged him before, and after the night of the full moon, how could she possibly trust him now?

"James?" she heard Mary say. Her flat mate had apparently decided to investigate the noise.

"I need to speak to Evans, Mary," James said, his voice still loud and still angry.

"It's the middle of the night!" Mary protested. "Can't this wait until the morning? You know… that's what normal people do."

Lily grabbed a dressing grown and wrapped it around her thin frame, then marched out of her room. She'd been half-expecting this confrontation, though not quite like this. But if James wanted to talk, then she was perfectly fine talking to him.

And with any luck, she wouldn't hex him into oblivion in the process.

James was standing in the middle of the living room. His hair was wet and plastered to his face, and a quick glance at the window showed Lily that it was absolutely pouring outside. And James' expression seemed to echo the weather – his eyes had darkened until the hazel was replaced by a stormy gray and his expression was one of pure, unadulterated fury.

Mary was standing opposite him, wearing pink pajamas and fluffy pink slippers and an expression of bewilderment. She was gaping at James, but at Lily's entrance, she switched her attention to the redhead.

"Lils?" she murmured questioningly.

"Go back to bed, Mary," Lily said stonily, keeping her gaze fixed on James. "I'll take care of this."

"Lily, what's going on?" Mary pressed, glancing warily between her friend and the wizard who had shown up so suddenly in her flat. It was clear from the expression on her face that she knew something was wrong, and equally clear that she was reluctant to leave Lily alone. She might not know exactly what the problem was, and she might actually like James quite a bit, but Lily was still her best friend, and she was on Lily's side.

James folded his arms across his chest and glared at Lily, ignoring Mary completely.

Lily blinked and glanced at Mary. "Please," she said in a softer voice, "let me handle this."

Mary studied Lily's face intently, then gave a hesitant nod and retreated into her own room.

Once the door was shut firmly behind Mary, Lily waved her wand at her friend's bedroom and murmured, "Muffilato," under her breath. Then she turned her attention back to James and demanded, "What do you want?"

"What the _bloody hell_ did you think you were doing, talking to Remus like that?" James snarled. "What is wrong with you?"

Lily took a step back, surprised by the rage. She'd never seen James this angry, and although Remus had told her a few times that James, for all his faults and rather arrogant habits, was an incredibly loyal friend, she hadn't realized how personally he would take the entire situation.

But Lily was not one to back down from an argument, so she said, "What's wrong with _you_, Potter? It's two in the morning and you've just broken into my flat!"

"Do you know what Remus is doing right now?" James hissed, lowering his voice. The reduction in volume did not make him any less terrifying, however. There was still a hostility to his words and a coldness in his eyes that sent shivers down Lily's spine.

Lily placed her hands on her hips and said, "I don't know. Howling at the moon, maybe?"

James' jaw dropped. Whatever harsh words he had expected from her, _that_ still took him completely by surprise.

It took her by surprise, too. She hadn't meant to say it, and cringed inwardly the moment the words came pouring out of her lips. It was far harsher than she meant to be, but she couldn't take it back now, and she was too angry to know if she even wanted to.

How could James stand there and pretend that Remus was the injured party here?

James shook his head and said in a tone of bitter disillusionment, "I thought you would be different. I thought you would understand. For all your talk about Muggleborn rights and pureblood prejudice… What a surprise, then, to find out that you're _exactly_ like everyone else. I guess it is a good thing that I've finally seen the kind of person you are."

Lily took a step back. It was as though his anger had taken physical form and shoved her towards the wall. She couldn't get away from him, couldn't escape his words or his hatred or the tension that filled the air, and she wanted to. She had wanted to talk to him before, had been more than prepared for the argument. But not now. Now, she just wanted to avoid this entire confrontation.

She was tired and frustrated and scared.

And stubborn.

She felt the tears burning hot in her eyes and refused to let them fall as she asked, "And what kind of person am I, Potter?"

"You're a hypocrite. And a coward. And you clearly don't care about anyone other than yourself," came the steady reply. James hadn't even hesitated to say the words.

And something in Lily snapped.

"Is that so?" she spat, seeing red. How dare Potter pretend to be _better_ than her? "Do you want to know the kind of person _I _think I am?" she demanded. James didn't say anything, or maybe she didn't give him enough time to respond. She wasn't thinking clearly, she just knew that she needed to get these thoughts out of her before they caused her to explode. "I'm the kind of person who is _stupid_ enough to think that people deserve a chance. I'm the kind of person who keeps clinging to the idea that people can be saved if you just try hard enough. But it's not true, is it? In the end, I'm just a silly little girl who was wasting her time."

She stalked over to the fireplace and grabbed a book from the end-table. She flung it at James as hard as she could, but she'd never had much in the way of physical strength and he caught it without trouble. He stared down at the cover, at the word Wolfsbane, and then looked back at Lily in confusion.

"That was what I was working on in my course," Lily said, venom twisting her words and her expression. "Wolfsbane. A chance to _help_ werewolves, to ease the pain of their transformation, to stop them from turning into a monster each month."

"I…" James started, but Lily raised her voice and continued, nearly shouting now.

"They all told me I was wrong. Healer Lanwick, Greengrass… even _Emma_ thought it was a waste of time. But I continued. I fought back. I refused to give up, to back down. Healer Lanwick _told_ me that if I continued with this I wouldn't move on to the next phase of the program and I might as well just give up on _all_ of my dreams. And you know what? I _continued_ working on the potion anyway! Because I thought it was _worth it_."

The tears finally escaped her self-control and spilled down her cheeks. She swatted at them angrily, annoyed that she was crying at all and embarrassed that she was crying in front of James.

"Never mind that that program was one of the few things going right in my life at the moment," Lily continued shouting at a shocked James. "I mean, _my own sister_ doesn't want me in her wedding. Not in the wedding party, not as a bridesmaid or anything else. In fact, she probably doesn't want me to come to the wedding _at all_! I spent _years_ feeling guilty that I'd gotten magic and she hadn't. I spent _years_ trying to keep my friendship with her, trying to be a good sister, trying to reclaim the relationship we had before all this. She kept pushing me away, calling me a _freak_ and any other name she could come up with, and I stupidly believed that if I just _tried harder_, I could fix this. And now, on the _most_ important day of her life, she doesn't want me around her!"

She knew, of course, that this wasn't James' fault. It wasn't Remus', either. But it was part of the problem, part of what had been plaguing her since leaving Hogwarts.

And James looked stunned and bewildered and still angry at her, and he opened his mouth to say something, but now that Lily had started talking, she couldn't stop.

"Which shouldn't have come as a surprise, should it, given that the _exact same thing_ happened with Severus," she spat. She wiped at her eyes again, brushing away more tears. "But I really should have been more prepared for _that_ one. It's not like I didn't see the path Severus was going down, but I thought if I just tried harder I could show him that his Slytherin friends were _wrong_. I was wrong then, just like I was wrong with Petunia this summer. And you'd think something good could have come from my fallout with him, right? That maybe I would be just a little bit more prepared for prejudice in the real world. But I wasn't." She stopped, the words choking her. "I wasn't," she said again, her voice hoarse.

"So you faced discrimination and rejection and then you turned around and did the exact same thing to Remus?" James demanded loudly, his voice cutting across hers.

Lily ignored him. "I wasn't prepared for Healer Lanwick to tell me I was a Muggleborn and I didn't understand anything. I'd gotten that from the Slytherins at Hogwarts, but I thought… I thought things would be different. I thought if I just worked hard enough, I could show her and everyone else that I was good enough. But I can't. I can't ever be good enough, can I? Because I can't change my blood!"

"At least you can actually get a job in the magical world," James retorted. "Which is more than Remus can do. Or did you forget that he's been working at a Muggle bookstore with an abusive boss?"

"_He attacked me_!"

And there it was, finally out in the open.

"It wasn't Remus," James argued passionately. "It was the wolf. He has no control over what he does when he has transformed and you _know_ that!"

"But he has control over what he does _before_ he transforms," Lily retorted hotly. "And if he'd had any common sense at all, he _wouldn't_ have transformed that close to a populated village!" She jutted her chin out and added in a tone filled with disgust, "And you, _Prongs_. You have control over what you do. You and _Padfoot_. The two of you are apparently arrogant enough to think that the rules don't apply to you. But there is more than a detention at stake here, Potter. People could _die_."

James didn't bother asking how she knew about his ability to transform into a stag. After all, she'd seen the scratches and gashes on his body, just like she'd seen the same on Sirius', and she knew their nicknames. It wouldn't have taken much for her to figure out what they were.

"Do you know what Lanwick told me?" Lily continued bitterly. "When I told her that Wolfsbane potion would help werewolves because it would allow them to keep their minds during their transformation, she said that that would only help us if they _didn't_ want to bite people. She seemed to be laboring under the assumption that some werewolves _enjoyed_ hurting others, and having their minds clear during the transformation would simply allow them to attack more people."

"Remus doesn't _want_ to hurt anyone!" James said fiercely, defending his friend.

"I know that," Lily answered coldly, finally no longer shouting. The energy had drained out of her, and she was too exhausted to be angry. And with the fury gone, all that was left was disappointment, and that seeped into her tone instead. "And at the time, I told Healer Lanwick that she was being ridiculous. At the time, I _thought_ she was being ridiculous. But was she? I know that Remus isn't going to _actively_ try to hurt anyone. But he certainly doesn't seem to be doing a whole lot to _avoid_ hurting people. And what if there are other werewolves out there who _do_ want to hurt people? And who would love to do it with their minds intact? How can I help them become such efficient murderers?"

"What would you have Remus do?" James asked, stalking forward until he was right in front of Lily.

"Lock himself in a room until the transformation is over," Lily answered. "Transform in the wilderness, far away from people. Chain himself up. Anything that doesn't risk _lives_, Potter. But he isn't doing that. He's putting everyone around him at risk, and you are Black are _helping_." She shook her head. "I thought he was better than that. Maybe you and Black are that arrogant to think what you three are doing is alright, but I thought Remus knew better."

"If he locks himself up in a room, he'll just end up tearing himself to bits, and he can't afford to go to St. Mungo's every month. And even if he could afford it, it would mean letting Healers poke and prod him and treat him like a monster," James answered, his words filled with loathing for the Healers at St. Mungo's. "Do you have any idea how many times he's been refused painkiller potions there because the Healers say that monsters like him don't deserve them? He doesn't have a whole lot of options, and this way at least he won't end up killing himself!"

"He could have killed me," Lily said quietly, ignoring the comment about St. Mungo's Healers. "He could have bitten me. Can you really tell me you've never had another close call besides that one? That he's never nearly maimed or killed or bitten someone else?"

James met her gaze and said flatly, "We've stopped him every time."

Lily sighed and looked away. "That's not good enough. Some day you won't be able to stop him. I thought Remus would understand that. I thought his lycanthropy was a curse, an illness, but that _he_ wasn't a monster. And he may not be the wolf, but he knowingly and willingly puts himself in a position where the wolf could do real damage. I thought Remus was different, and I was wrong." She gave a bitter chuckle. "It's been happening a lot lately."

"So you're just going to give up on this potion," James said flatly, disbelievingly. "You're just going to give up on werewolves. Because of one night? Because of one close call. Remus is a good..."

"If I continue this potion," Lily interrupted flatly, bluntly, "I give up my future. I give up everything I want for myself. And for what? For someone who doesn't mind putting other people's lives in danger? For someone who holds no regard for the safety of others? For someone who thinks only of himself?" She scoffed, but then her expression fell and she said quietly, "And the things is... I'd do it. I'd give it all up for this potion. If I still thought it was the right thing to do. But now... I don't know. I don't know what I believe about werewolves anymore, but if the _good_ werewolves out there are like Remus, I can't imagine what would happen if I provide this potion to the _bad_ ones. I won't take the risk of giving Dark creatures an even better way to kill."

"You should come visit Remus directly after the full moon," James said, his tone suddenly filled with raw pain. "Before his mother has had a chance to fix him up. Or better yet, you should visit him after a transformation when Sirius and Peter and I _aren't_ around, when he doesn't have anyone to help keep him at least a little bit more sane. When he turns on himself and tears himself to pieces. You should visit him, and then you can tell me that what I'm doing is wrong. Then you can tell me that it is okay to let one of my best mates _torture_ himself every month. Then you can tell me that I should take the chance he'll _kill_ himself without us around to stop him."

Lily said nothing.

"But until that happens," James continued in a low voice, "stay the hell away from Remus. And I promise you, Evans, if you breathe a word of his secret to anyone, I will make you regret it." He spun on his heel and marched towards the door. He paused there, looking back at Lily, and she met his gaze tiredly. "You really aren't the girl I thought you were," he said softly, and there was some sadness in his voice.

And then he was gone.


	12. Just Give Up and Admit You're An Asshole

A/N: The beginning of this chapter goes backwards in time a bit from the end of the last chapter. It takes place on the same night that James showed up at Lily's flat (though a bit earlier in the evening), and the rest of the chapter takes place the day after the James/Lily conversation.

Chapter Twelve: Just Give Up and Admit You're An Asshole

He'd run away from home, his name had been blasted off the family tree, and every conversation he had ever had with his parents ended in shouting.

Those were all things that Sirius knew about his life. Those were all things that he had accepted – or, at least, pretended he had accepted. They didn't bother him now anywhere near as much as they had bothered him in the past. He'd replaced his family with James, Remus, and Peter, and later James' parents, and he'd replaced his home with Hogwarts, or the Potter house, or his own flat. He'd moved on.

Sort of.

James' revelation that he'd heard Malfoy, Snape, and one of the Lestranges discussing a plot to convince him to rejoin the family had changed everything.

It shouldn't have changed anything, because there was nothing anyone could say that would ever make him go back to that hell, to the pureblood elitism and his parents' ridiculous ambitions for the creation of a _proper_ wizarding society. He should have just been able to shrug off those words, laugh at whatever idiotic plan they came up with, and go on with his life.

He couldn't.

It was eleven o'clock at night and he was sitting at a wizarding pub in the middle of Muggle London, watching as the object of his moody thoughts wrapped his arm around the beautiful blonde sitting next to him, oblivious to Sirius' stare.

It would have been easier if Regulus hadn't chosen to come to that particular pub, Sirius reflected bitterly as he slowly curled his fingers around the glass of Firewhisky resting on the bar in front of him.

Sirius himself had come here to meet Remus and James, but Remus had cancelled at the last minute, claiming he didn't feel up to hanging out that night, and James had immediately left to track down their bookish friend and find out what the trouble was.

Sirius had debated calling on Peter, but the fourth Marauder had initially refused to come out that night because he was needed at home, and Sirius didn't want to interrupt whatever his friend was dealing with at the moment. Peter had been quieter than usual as of late, and they all knew part of it was because he was so busy trying to help out at his father's business.

Sirius didn't know what the other part of it was, but it bothered him nonetheless. He'd respect Peter's privacy… for now. But sooner or later, the two of them were going to have to talk.

Unfortunately, respecting Peter's privacy meant that he was on his own for the evening. So instead of spending time with any of his friends, Sirius was sitting alone at the bar, watching Regulus talk to Eliza Greengrass.

Regulus was the one sore point left in the entire mess he called family. He had at one point honestly believed that he and Regulus could work past their issues and restore some semblance of brotherhood. But that time had passed. Their relationship was a lost cause.

But it still bothered Sirius.

Regulus had shown up about ten minutes after James had left, and the timing had been truly awful. If Regulus had come ten minutes earlier and James had still been there, James would have dragged Sirius away before he could get too bogged down in his own frustrated emotions. If Regulus had waited another ten minutes, Sirius probably would have left, because sitting at a pub by himself wasn't much fun.

But the timing had conspired against him.

He downed the rest of his Firewhisky in one gulp, feeling it burn the back of his throat. The barmaid, a pretty brunette with long legs and just barely enough clothing to be considered decently dressed, gave him a perky smile and reached for the glass.

"More, luv?"

He shook his head and waved one hand. "No, thanks," he muttered sourly.

He clambered off the stool and made his way through the crowded pub towards the door. Maybe he'd take a short stroll before Apparating back to his flat. Some fresh air would help to clear his head and push away all thoughts of his worthless brother.

What did it matter if Bella had some crazy plan to get Sirius to rejoin the family? What was she going to do? Show up with a list of reasons the Blacks were better than everyone else? Send him an essay trying to convince him to come back to his ancestral home?

Hex him until he caved? _That_ was more Bella's style.

He shoved open the door and a blast of cool wind hit him, momentarily clearing his head. The night air smelled like smoke and car exhaust and a hint of oncoming rain, and was a welcome relief from the claustrophobic bar and his even more claustrophobic thoughts.

The relief didn't last long.

"The rest of the wedding was nice."

Sirius spun around to find Regulus standing in the doorway of the pub. Apparently he _had_ been aware of Sirius' stare and had decided to follow his brother outside.

Sirius blinked, and it took his alcohol-infused mind a moment to figure out what wedding Regulus was referring to. But when the pieces clunked into place, he snorted derisively and asked, "Why would I care?"

"She's still your cousin," Regulus said stubbornly. "I thought you might want to know that she's happy."

"Narcissa is not family," Sirius replied. "Besides, it's been weeks since the wedding. If I didn't care enough to find out how it went before, what makes you think I would care now?"

"So you're just going to be a selfish brat about it?" Regulus snarled, splotches of red appearing on his face. "I don't understand how you can just walk away from your own family."

Sirius rolled his eyes. When he spoke, his words were laced with venom and more than a little bit of disgust, "Why don't you go back to shoving your tongue down Greengrass' throat, Reg? She at least can actually stand being around you."

Without waiting for a response, he spun around and stomped down the street away from the pub and his brother. He expected to hear Regulus call out after him, expected to hear insults hurtled at him… but he didn't expect to feel Regulus suddenly grab onto his arm and pull him back.

"For Merlin's sake," Regulus snapped, "how much longer are you going to keep this up?"

Sirius yanked his arm out of his brother's grasp and narrowed his eyes. "Gee, I don't know," he said sarcastically, "how about _forever_?"

"Grow up! Get over yourself, get over this childish temper tantrum…"

"You think me leaving home was a temper tantrum?" Sirius demanded incredulously. "I'm not the one acting selfish. I'm not the one being immature. I'm not the one…"

"Then what exactly is it you think you're doing?" Regulus asked pointedly. "Running around with your filthy friends and trampling all over the Black family name and our ideals and-"

"You sound more and more like Mum every day," Sirius interrupted, spitting out the words.

"You say that like it is a bad thing."

"It _is_ a bad thing! Mum's little pet. I thought you'd outgrow that eventually, but clearly I was wrong. You're so eager to make her happy, so eager to be the perfect Black son, you can't even see that-"

"Don't tell me what I do and don't see!" Regulus snarled. "You're the one who is blind to all the pain you've caused!"

"I give up," Sirius said, throwing his hands into the air. "I just... Merlin... I give up."

"On what?"

"On _you_."

Regulus said nothing, although his eyes widened slightly, and Sirius could have sworn he saw something like hurt flash through his younger brother's expression. But then it was gone, replaced by the same look of derision that their parents had always saved specially for Sirius.

"We keep having the same argument over and over," Sirius growled, "and you never… you never listen. You never _learn_. Merlin, you just… you make me so…" He shook his head, unable to come up with the right words to express the magnitude of his anger and his disappointment.

And Regulus still said nothing.

"So I give up," Sirius said. "We're done. You and me… we're not brothers anymore."

Regulus stared at Sirius for a moment longer, then turned away and started back towards the pub.

"Hey, Reg," Sirius called out suddenly, a thought occurring to him. Regulus paused and looked back expectantly, and Sirius asked, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about cousin Bella having some plan to convince me to rejoin the family? Something Malfoy might be involved in as well?"

"I'm not the only one who thinks you should come back," Regulus replied flatly. "I'm not the only one who… who misses you."

"They don't miss me," Sirius scoffed. "They just don't want me to embarrass the family." He curled one hand into a first, the other one automatically slipping into his pocket to close around the smooth wood of his wand. "And what about you, Reg?" Sirius pressed. "Are you part of this plan of theirs? Is that why you're talking to me now? Is that why you wanted me to come to the wedding? So I don't embarrass you?"

"I'm your _brother_," Regulus said.

It wasn't an answer, not really, and Sirius didn't want to continue the conversation long enough to find out anything else. He turned around and left, not bothering to look back even once.

Regulus wasn't his brother, not really.

And maybe if he said that enough times, he'd start to believe it.

* * *

><p>"Maybe she's right, Prongs."<p>

"She's not bloody right, Moony!"

Remus groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He was used to James anger and his stubbornness and his complete refusal to listen to any dissenting opinion, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Particularly not when the topic of conversation had so much to do with him.

"She's overreacting," Sirius agreed.

Remus shook his head. _Of course_ Sirius would take James' side. _Of course_ he would ignore the truth in Lily's words.

James was pacing, full of pent-up energy and irritation. His footsteps were loud and angry and his glare could easily have rivaled even the worst that McGonagall bestowed upon them. It was almost as though he was trying to force Remus to agree with him by sheer willpower.

Remus sighed and looked away. His gaze fell on Sirius, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall. He'd been on edge throughout the entire conversation – and they'd been having this conversation for at least twenty minutes, constantly going in circles because no one was willing to give in – and there was something sour in his expression.

Clearly, Sirius had his own problems to worry about, and they were preoccupying much of his mind.

"I could have killed her," Remus said.

Sirius met his gaze. "We wouldn't let you do that," he replied off-handedly, a smirk touching his lips. "Even as the wolf you're too scrawny to overpower James or I. All that time spent in the library instead of flying with the rest of us…"

"Would you be serious for just one moment?" Remus asked, frustrated.

"I'm Sirius all the time," came the reply.

Remus frowned. "Stop joking around," he snapped, his voice suddenly far harsher than he had intended.

That out-of-character response was enough to stop James' pacing, at least for a moment. "No one's joking, Moony," he said flatly. "But she's wrong. Alright? Evans is _wrong_."

"I was being irresponsible," Remus said softly. "I should just go back to transforming at St. Mungo's…"

"So they can sneer at you and treat you like a monster?" Sirius demanded. "Don't be ridiculous."

"What would have happened if I'd bitten Lily?" Remus asked bitterly.

"You wouldn't have…"

"_You don't know that_!" Remus retorted loudly, cutting off James' words. He felt the heat rising to his face, felt his own fears and worries bubbling under the surface of the calm he was so desperately trying to maintain. He took a breath and exhaled slowly before saying, "You can't promise me that I will never hurt anyone. You just _can't_."

"We've seen how they treat you at St. Mungos," James said firmly. "I'm not going to let you go back there."

"_Let_ me?" Remus repeated, eyebrows raised. "It isn't your decision."

"Well, it bloody well should be," James snapped, "since you're making a right mess of it!"

"Prongs…"

"You can't just let them victimize you! You can't go back to St. Mungo's and let them treat you like you're a monster…"

"I _am_ a monster!" There was an abrupt silence in response to Remus' furious words, and then he sighed and said in a softer voice, "Or, at least, the wolf is."

"You're not the wolf, Moony," Sirius said quietly.

Remus shrugged, not really wanting to dwell on that point. "Does it matter? I got _lucky_. We would be having a completely different conversation right now if I had bitten Lily, and you _know_ that. We need to stop this. I'll find another way to get through the transformations but… we need to stop putting people in danger."

"So you had one close call," Sirius started, but Remus cut him off.

"This wasn't the first close call," he said bluntly. "We've had other narrow misses at school…" He trailed off and didn't mention Snape, but James and Sirius both stiffened nonetheless. "This wasn't the first close call," he said again, "but I can at least make sure it is the last."

"How are you going to do that?" Peter asked.

Remus started; he'd almost forgotten that Peter was even there. The fourth Marauder had said nothing during the conversation, and had practically faded into the background as the other three argued with each other.

But now he was staring at Remus with a look of earnest curiosity in his gaze.

"I'll go to St. Mungos," Remus said, shrugging.

Peter looked down for a moment, then asked, "How?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably. Peter brought up a good point, one that he hadn't considered. He'd been too frustrated at James and Sirius and himself and even Lily to consider the finer details of his plan. And though Peter wouldn't come right out and say what it was that he meant, he could at least subtly remind Remus of the problems with his plan.

He couldn't afford St. Mungos.

And he wasn't going to take charity from his friends, although, given the argument, he wasn't really sure any of them would offer it anyway.

"I'll figure something out," he said stoically.

"Well, count me out," James retorted resentfully. "I'm not going to be part of this."

* * *

><p>It became abundantly clear by the first ten minutes of practice that this was not going to be a good day.<p>

Two minutes in, and James couldn't get his head in the game well enough to pay attention to Shaw's instructions.

Four minutes in, and he missed an easy pass from Wilde.

Seven minutes in, and he failed to knock the Quaffle into the goal, despite what had been an amazing set-up by Wilkinson.

Ten minutes in, and Shaw was yelling at him.

"Potter, what is _wrong_ with you today? Stop glaring at everyone and get your focus back!"

James turned sharply in midair and felt his temper start to bubble dangerously close to the surface. His hands clutched tightly at the handle of the broom and he had to forcefully bite down on his tongue to stop callous words from spilling out.

Shaw must have seen just how close James was to loosing it, because he narrowed his eyes and said harshly, "Either get yourself together or sit out."

James gave a jerking nod and turned his broom around.

He wasn't used to this. Flying had never once failed to take his mind off his problems, at least temporarily. When his mother had gotten sick during the winter of his seventh year, he'd spent a good month giving every free second to the Quidditch pitch. Before they'd become Animagi, every time Remus had had a particularly bad transformation and ended up under Madam Pomfrey's care for longer than usual, James would grab his broom and fly out over the castle grounds. Every time Regulus started a fight with Sirius or Snape taunted Peter for his mediocrity and James couldn't do anything to cheer up either of them, he'd taken to the air instead.

All he had ever needed was to jump on a broom, and the feeling of flying, the incredible rush of air and wind and adrenaline, would soothe his emotions and give him some reprieve from his frustrations.

Not today.

Today, it seemed only to make things worse.

Wilkinson tossed the Quaffle to him and he caught it. Bagman sent a Bludger his way, and it should have been easy enough to dodge. It wasn't a hard hit and James was far enough away to swerve around the oncoming ball, but he couldn't quite manage to pull himself together and the Bludger grazed his arm, throwing him off balance. He dropped the Quaffle and grabbed his broom to steady himself.

"Damn it!" he swore under his breath as Shaw caught the Quaffle.

The team captain pulled up in front of him, one hand holding the Quaffle under his arm. "Take a couple laps around the pitch, Potter," he ordered. "Maybe that will help clear your mind."

"Doubt it," James grumbled sourly, but when Shaw raised his eyebrows pointedly, a silent reminder that his words had been an order, not a request, James spun his broom around and stared flying.

But the feel of the cool air on his face and the wind in his hair did nothing to help the situation.

Remus thought he was a monster.

He hadn't said it in so many words, but it had been clear to the other three Marauders. They had spent _years_ telling Remus that they were his friends and they would _never_ think of him as a monster, but that was all apparently for nothing, because Remus himself now believed it.

And James couldn't even use Quidditch as a way to get his mind off the defeated look in Remus' eyes when he had insisted that he should just go back to St. Mungo's.

To being treated like something less than human.

It was all Lily bloody Evans' fault.

The rest of the practice passed uneventfully, but it certainly didn't get any better. He missed several more easy goals, failed to catch several more simple passes, and glowered at everything and everyone. And he knew that none of this was the fault of anyone on the team and he really shouldn't have been taking his anger out on them, but he just couldn't help it.

He was in a foul mood, and he had no idea how to make it better.

Shaw called the practice early, and James let his broom carry him slowly towards the ground. He could see Vanessa sitting on one of the benches, watching him, and he grimaced.

So apparently she'd seen just how horribly he'd played, too.

She smiled at him, and he forced himself to return the gesture. But she clearly saw the effort behind it, because her smile faded into an expression of concern.

He turned away from her and climbed off his broom. The last thing he wanted right now was someone's sympathy. Particularly when that person had no idea what was actually wrong.

Which made it rather unfortunate that Carlotta Prewitt took that moment to put her hand on his shoulder and asked gently, "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine," he growled at the Seeker, shrugging off her hand.

She bristled. "I was just asking," she said a bit sharply. "No need to take that tone with me."

"Oh, bugger off," he retorted.

"Alright, that's it!" Shaw snarled, breaking into the conversation before it could continue. "Potter, I don't know what happened to you and I don't care. Deal with whatever it is and pull yourself together, because until you do, you're sitting out."

"I… _what_?" James demanded.

"You're sitting out. Not playing in any matches, not practicing with us." James gaped at him, but Shaw didn't seem to notice. He turned away from James, dismissing him, and focused instead on the other members of his team.

James continued to stare at him, dumbfounded.

"You're kicking me off the team?" he asked finally.

"No," Shaw replied over his shoulder. "I'm just temporarily removing you. Deal with your problems on your own time, _then_ come back." And he led the rest of the team towards the changing rooms, away from James. They followed wordlessly, some looking back at James with mixtures of sympathy and confusion.

James ignored all of them and scuffed the ground with the toe of his shoe.

How did this day just keep getting worse?

"James?"

He turned around as Vanessa approached. She was frowning at him, her eyes darting between his face and the departing team.

He didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to discuss what had happened during the practice and he certainly didn't want to tell her why he was in a bad mood. He couldn't tell her, not really. They'd gone on two more dates since the bet, but it wasn't like she was his girlfriend, and he wasn't about to trust her with Remus' secret.

And he didn't want to talk about Lily.

"What?" he demanded as she stared at him.

"What happened?" she asked. "I heard Shaw… I heard what he said. Are you… alright?" She sounded tentative, unsure, and if James had been paying any attention at all, he would have noticed just how awkward she felt about the entire situation. Comforting someone was apparently new to her.

Or, at least, it was new to her when it was a person she cared about and she wasn't just trying to manipulate him to get a story.

But he wasn't paying attention to her tone, just her words, and her words were asking a remarkably stupid question. "No, I'm not bloody alright," he retorted. "I got kicked off the team!"

"It is just temporary," Vanessa said softly, as though that would make things better.

James scoffed. "Right. Whatever."

Vanessa cleared her throat. "Let's… let's go… do something… Something to get your mind off… whatever happened," she suggested. "Unless you want to talk about it? That might help."

"Why?" James asked.

Vanessa's eyebrows furrowed into a slightly bewildered expression, then she said, "I'm just trying to help. I care about you. We _are_ dating, after all."

"Yeah?" he snapped challengingly. "You're only still dating me because you're hoping to trick me into giving you a decent story. I'm sure once you manage to squeeze out everything I know about Shaw and Sabine and Puddlemere United you'll move on to the next bloke you can manipulate."

Vanessa reeled back as though he'd slapped her. Her eyes widened momentarily, then she said coolly, "Fine. If that is how you feel about it, I guess there is no reason for me to stick around."

"Guess not," James answered sourly.

She turned and stalked away, and James watched her go, wondering bitterly if he'd just ruined yet another good thing he'd had in his life.

* * *

><p>Lily supposed she really shouldn't have been surprised to see Sirius Black sitting on the floor outside her flat. He was leaning against her door, looking for all the world as though he belonged there, and after James had decided to break into her flat at two in the morning the previous night, it didn't come as a surprise that Sirius would want to talk to her as well.<p>

She steeled herself for what was no doubt going to be another unpleasant conversation, but Sirius just looked up at her and said, "Hey, Evans."

"Black," she said, nodding her head in greeting. "What do you want?" She shifted the books she was holding from one arm to the other. It had been a long day in the program, and she'd suffered through too many concerned glances from Emma and mocking smirks from Eliza to want to deal with Sirius now.

Sirius stood up slowly and yawned. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he said with a smirk in his eyes. Then his expression grew grave and he said, "James told me about your conversation with him."

"Did he now?" Lily said sarcastically. "What a surprise." She stepped around him, ignoring the way his eyes narrowed slightly at her tone, and dug her wand out of her pocket. She tapped it against the doorknob and the locks gave way, allowing her entrance into her flat.

Sirius followed her inside and watched in silence as she dumped her books onto the sofa and turned to face him with a questioning look in her eyes.

"You're wrong, you know," he said matter-of-factly.

She raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Most everything," Sirius replied simply, folding his arms across his chest. When Lily didn't say anything, he lifted his chin and said challengingly, "Tell me your concerns about continuing to work on the Wolfsbane potion, and I'll counter them."

"My concerns? You mean besides the fact that it is ruining my life and all of my dreams?" Lily demanded. "Besides the fact that I'm not sure I can even get anywhere on the potion? Besides the fact that I don't think it is a good idea to give werewolves the ability to become more efficient at killing people?"

Sirius laughed, and she was slightly surprised by how hollow it sounded. "More _efficient_?" he asked quietly. "Evans, all a werewolf has to do is figure out who he wants to target, and then hang around that person at the full moon. A potion isn't going to change that."

"Without their minds, there is no way they can guarantee that they will bite their target…" Lily started, but Sirius cut her off.

"It worked well enough for the werewolf that targeted Remus."

That comment was enough to give Lily pause. She had no idea how Remus had been bitten, and it had never even occurred to her to wonder about it.

She swallowed uneasily. "Remus was targeted?" she asked quietly.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, he was." He ran a hand through his hair, and for a moment, the gesture reminded Lily so much of James that she couldn't help but role her eyes in response to it. Sirius didn't notice her reaction, though, and continued, "There are bad wizards in the world, but you don't withhold magic from everyone just because you're afraid of a few of them letting their power go to their heads. Or do you think we should shut down Hogwarts and deprive everyone of an education so that they don't have the ability to do any real harm if they turn out bad?"

"That's not the same thing," Lily protested weakly.

"Yeah, it is," Sirius countered. "You don't know the story of what happened to Remus, Evans, but let me tell you… the one thing we can learn from it is that the werewolves that want to hurt people… they'll find a way to reach their targets with or without a potion. By not working on the potion, the only thing you're doing is depriving good werewolves of a chance to escape their curse."

Lily didn't answer right away. Then she sighed and said, "You were all being reckless and stupid. You could have killed someone."

"We never did," Sirius replied. "Remus never hurt or bit anyone."

Lily snorted derisively. "That makes him lucky, not smart."

"I can't – _won't_ – just let him suffer," Sirius said firmly, refusing to back down even as Lily narrowed her eyes at him.

"And the rest of us? The ones you put in danger?" she demanded.

"Finish the Wolfsbane potion, and Remus won't suffer. We won't have to stay with him to keep him from killing himself. He won't put anyone else in danger. Everyone wins," Sirius replied.

The redhead closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of Healer Lanwick's promise that Lily wouldn't move on to the next stage of the program if she continued with the Wolfsbane potion. She sighed, shaking her head.

"Everyone but me," she muttered. Opening her eyes, she looked at Sirius intently, then said, "So it's all on me? The burden to make everything better… you won't take responsibility for your stupidity but _I'm_ supposed to give up my future for this? Just like what Potter said. Somehow, it's all my fault."

"I think…" Sirius started.

"And why should I care at all what you think?" Lily interrupted spitefully. "You're just going to agree with Potter, and I've already heard his complaints."

Sirius studied her face for a long moment, and she was struck by the strangest sensation that he was looking for something in her. She didn't know if he found it, but after a moment, she saw a look of sympathy creep into his eyes.

Then he said, "Merlin, you don't even see it."

"See what?" she snapped irritably, suddenly wishing she hadn't even bothered to come home. Maybe it would have been better if she'd just avoided this whole conversation by leaving the moment she'd noticed Sirius at her door.

"You're still stuck on Snape," Sirius said flatly.

"I… what?" Lily asked, stunned. It took her a moment to find her voice again. "What does Severus have to do with anything?"

"He was your friend, right?" Sirius said. "Best friend? You two were inseparable, even after being sorted into different Houses. But then he started going down a path you didn't like, and you couldn't stop him, and one day he decided to call you _that_ word."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Spare me the story, Black," she said coolly. "I don't need reminding; I lived through it, remember?"

"Yeah, and you never got over it," Sirius replied. "It keeps coming back to haunt you, but you're so damned convinced that you're in the right that you don't stop to think about _why_ you are reacting the way you are."

Lily narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about," she spat.

Sirius stared at her for a long moment, then said flatly, "You're not the only one who has lost someone they cared about to pureblood prejudice."

Once again, Lily found herself momentarily at a loss for words.

Who would have imagined that Sirius could surprise her so many times in such a short conversation?

Of course, just the fact that he'd shown up to talk instead of yell and scream at her like James did was a surprise. She never would have imagined that he would be the level-headed one in any situation.

Sirius scratched at the back of his head and shifted uncomfortably. "Look, Evans, I get it. Believe me, I get it. You loved him." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and added, "And he _definitely_ reciprocated it."

"He was my friend," Lily said, flushing darkly. "That's _all_." She'd never felt anything more than friendship for Severus, though if things hadn't turned sour she supposed that could have changed. Still, Mary had told her on more than one occasion that Severus felt something more than friendship for her, and Mary was generally more perceptive than Lily when it came to boys.

Sirius giving a barking laugh, but didn't press the issue. Instead, he said, "You cared about him. And then he threw you over for the Dark Arts. And you couldn't do anything about it. You couldn't stop him from going down that path and you couldn't convince him that pureblood prejudice is wrong and that he _really_ needed to pick better friends. And it make you wonder about standing up for what you believe in… because if you can't save the one person from your childhood who matters to you, then what's the point? Why continually put yourself through the pain of fighting for your beliefs when you can't win?"

Lily found herself quite abruptly dangerously close to tears. His words were cutting deep into her, and she couldn't ignore them, couldn't stop the complicated emotions that were welling up in her chest. It was too much to think about, but how could she discount what he was saying when it was so blatantly true?

In an effort to turn the conversation, she asked with a brittle smile, "Are we talking about you or me?"

Sirius didn't answer the question, but his eyes grew a shade darker. He paused for a moment, then said, "Snape is buddies with Malfoy and Lestrange now. He's gone. You can't get him back and you can't change him. You can't save him. You can't make a potion or a spell or _anything_ that will fix this."

"I know," Lily said venomously. "You don't need to remind me of that, Black. I lost him years ago."

"But you can still help Remus," Sirius said pointedly. "And if you're so damned unhappy with the way he's dealing with his curse, you can talk to him ad he will actually _listen_." The softness that had filled his voice since he started talking about Snape disappeared, and he said in a much colder tone, "But that thought never occurred to you, did it? You decided the best solution was to call Remus a monster and just give up."

Lily wanted to defend herself, but wasn't sure what to say. Everything Sirius had said had been true. Every word had been accurate. And at the time, she might have known that her words to Remus were harsh, but she hadn't thought of them as unfair. Even if she had uttered them in anger, she'd still _believed_ them.

But now…

Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and she wrapped her arms around herself almost defensively.

Sirius smirked ever so slightly when he saw the guilt and shame in her expression. It didn't give him pause, didn't make him hesitate or choose his words carefully. Instead, he seemed to grow colder, angrier, and when he spoke, his tone was filled with mocking and derision.

"You wanted to help Remus, and he disappointed you, and so you automatically compared him to Snape. And _that's_ the problem, isn't it? You can claim the moral high ground and pretend this is about protecting the world from evil werewolves, but it isn't. Because when you decided not to work on the Wolfsbane potion anymore, you weren't thinking about Remus and you weren't thinking about werewolves and you certainly weren't thinking about protecting innocent people. You were thinking about what it felt like to have your best friend call you a Mudblood in front of half the school."

Lily dropped her eyes to the floor and didn't respond.

"Oh, and in case you are wondering just how well Remus listens to his friends, to the people whose opinions actually matter to him… you convinced him that he is a monster and doesn't deserve any better than to be treated like an animal," Sirius added scornfully. "Congratulations, Evans. You're the only one who has ever managed that."


	13. You Would Be In Some Good Company

A/N: I refer to this as my 'James growing up' chapter…

Chapter Thirteen: You Would Be In Some Good Company

"Come on, Lils. Whatever it is, you can tell me," Caradoc said softly, leaning towards Lily and lacing his fingers through hers.

Lily sighed. It wasn't a simple matter. She couldn't tell him, of course, but that didn't mean she didn't want to. It would have been nice to have someone else's opinion on the matter because she didn't know what to do. A lot of what Sirius had said was true, but she wasn't convinced that it really changed anything. Remus' actions had still been completely irresponsible.

But there was no one she could talk to about this. Sirius and James were both biased, she couldn't really discuss it with Remus, and she had a feeling Peter would just agree with whatever his friends said.

She had debated visiting her parents again, but with Petunia's wedding fast approaching, she didn't want to burden her mother with anything else. Besides, Petunia had made it quite clear on more than one occasion that she preferred if Lily didn't drop by unannounced; the presence of a _freak_ in the house might upset Vernon.

"Lily?" Caradoc pressed, pulling the redhead from her gloomy thoughts.

Lily played with a few strands of hair and considered her words carefully. "I got into a… _disagreement_… with Potter and Black. And they both said some things…"

Caradoc's hand tightened around her fingers and he asked in a hard voice, "What kinds of things?"

Lily shook her head slowly and didn't give an answer right away.

After the encounter with Remus in wolf form and the subsequent fallout in her life, she'd gone to Caradoc for comfort, and he hadn't questioned her, hadn't pressed for details, hadn't forced her to talk. He'd simply held her and let her cry into his chest, and maybe that would have been enough for him if she had recovered from the problem, but it was clear that it was still bothering her and now he wanted to help. He wanted to fix it.

She wasn't sure it was something that could easily be fixed.

Finally, she said, "Potter accused me of being selfish and Black said I wasn't able to let go of the past." Caradoc stiffened, his expression growing angry, and she hurried on, "They were both right. Sort of. But I was right, too, about the things I was saying and they couldn't… wouldn't… listen. It was like I had to take responsibility for everything and they could just ignore that what they were doing was wrong."

"What were they doing?"

Lily heaved a sigh. "I can't tell you." Caradoc looked like he wanted to protest, but Lily held up her free hand to stall whatever he was about to say. "I can't. _Really_."

"Was what they were doing dangerous?" Caradoc asked.

Lily nodded and tapped the fingers of her free hand against the table, wishing there was more she could say. But she wasn't going to reveal Remus' secret - and not just because James had warned her not to. She might have doubts about werewolves now, but that didn't mean she wanted to ruin Remus' life.

Caradoc gave her hand a slight squeeze.

She looked up at him and forced a smile. "Sorry. This isn't really how I expected the date to go."

Caradoc laughed softly and glanced around the restaurant. "That's alright," he assured her, "I don't mind. I wouldn't have asked what was wrong if I didn't want to know." He leaned forward again and kissed her quickly, chastely. "I really wish you would tell me more. I want to be able to help you."

Lily smiled genuinely at that. "I know. And I… thank you. But I can't. Really. I just… I need to figure this out on my own."

Caradoc nodded in acceptance of her words.

Lily chewed her lip. "I feel like all we ever do is talk about me and my thoughts and my feelings," she said after a moment. "I don't mean to monopolize so much of the conversation."

Caradoc laughed again. "I enjoy hearing about your thoughts and feelings." His expression clouded for a moment, then he said grimly, "Anyway, there isn't much in my life to talk about at the moment."

Lily recognized his expression, understood it for what it was. "Your brother?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged and looked away, slowly untangling his fingers from hers and settling his hands in his lap. "That's not going to change. _He's_ not going to change."

Lily ran the tips of her fingers over the metal of her fork and wished she knew the appropriate response. For all her experience with difficult siblings, she was at a loss as to how to best comfort Caradoc about his. Petunia was annoying and often cruel, but she wasn't a drunk and she wasn't continually getting herself in trouble. She and Lily might no longer be friends - or even on speaking terms, really - but at least Lily didn't feel responsible for her. She could, and did, take care of herself.

Caradoc's situation was different, and Lily was selfishly happy that her relationship with Petunia wasn't anything like Caradoc's relationship with his brother.

"You're very responsible," Lily said finally.

Caradoc frowned, then replied, "I'm an adult now. I'm of age, so… I have to be responsible. It's the real world, and we all have to grow up eventually."

* * *

><p>Once again, Peter was alone when Marcus Avery found him.<p>

The stocky Slytherin gave a slow smirk and leaned casually against the wall as his gaze roamed over Mr. Pettigrew's shop. It wasn't crowded, and no one was standing close enough to Peter to see how nervous he was, or to notice how threatening Avery looked.

"It would really be a pity if this place went up in flames," Avery said slowly.

Peter stiffened. He wanted frantically to say something - anything - but couldn't think of the right words. Couldn't think of _any_ words. James and Sirius were always better at this, at exchanging insults and quips and standing up to bullies. He was braver when they were there.

"So… are you going to help us, Pettigrew," Avery asked maliciously, "or are you going to stand there and watch your Daddy's shop burn?"

"I can't… I don't even… I don't even know what you want me to do," Peter protested, his voice coming out in stammered squeaks.

"Why did Potter get benched?" Avery asked, curling one meaty hand into a fist and then menacingly cracking his knuckles.

Peter was shaking. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to show weakness, knew Sirius would probably mock him for it, but courage had never been his strongest characteristic.

His eyes darted away. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I don't understand… what is _benched_?"

"Sidelined," Avery answered, rolling his eyes. "Pushed out of the game." Peter gave him an uncomprehending look, and he said derisively, "Snape was right, you really _are_ the most idiotic of your little friends."

"I am not…" Peter started, but Avery ignored him.

"Potter was temporarily removed from the Wasps," Avery said, speaking slowly and enunciating each word as though he were talking to a child. Peter said nothing, and Avery shook his head and asked with a sneer, "Did he tell you that? Or did he decide there was no reason to confide in little Peter because the poor boy couldn't handle the truth that his friends aren't perfect?"

"Of course he told me!" Peter snapped angrily. His friends told him _everything_.

Avery smiled. "Good," he said, eyes filling with icy triumph. "Then I am sure he told you _why_. What did he do? Or did Shaw just finally come to his senses and realize that Potter is nothing more than a spoiled…"

"It is just temporary!" Peter interrupted, coming immediately to James' defense. How could Avery stand there and call James spoiled when he was the one who had marched in here and started making demands?

"That so?" Avery asked idly. "Why?"

"Wh-why do you care?" Peter asked shakily. "How do you even _know_?"

"A little birdy told me," Avery replied. "Now…" He glanced around the store once more, eyes pausing momentarily at the few patrons who were still ignoring them, then lowered his voice and said, "Bella's waiting outside, and she's _quite_ eager to cause a bit of damage. So are you going to tell me what I want to know, or am I going to walk out there and tell her to start the fire?"

"I'll tell," Peter said valiantly. "If you do anything… I'll… I'll tell."

It was a pathetic response, and he knew it. But this shop meant _everything_ to his father, and he couldn't let Bellatrix Lestrange destroy it. He couldn't stand by and do nothing while someone threatened his family.

But could he betray James' friendship?

Avery snorted. "This isn't school and you can't just run to a teacher when you're scared," he said dismissively, a hint of mocking in his tone. His gaze hardened as he added dangerously, "Do you really think threatening to tattle is going to frighten me?"

Peter dropped his gaze to the ground and wished, not for the first time, that James and Sirius were there. Or maybe, he reflected bitterly, he didn't want them here. Maybe he didn't want them to see how pathetic he was, how he couldn't stand up on his own, how he needed them to fight his battles for him.

Maybe he didn't want them to know that he was afraid.

Avery stepped closer, and Peter automatically backed away, but he was only a few steps from the wall and soon had his backed pressed against it and nowhere to go. His stomach flipped over and he shifted his weight nervously, fingers anxiously twisting at the fabric of his robes.

"This isn't a hard question, Pettigrew," Avery said, "and even you should have the brains needed to answer it." He leaned forward, invading Peter's space. "What did Potter do?"

"N-Nothing," Peter stammered. "He just… he just had a bad… a bad day and… and it was nothing."

Avery's eyes flicked towards the entrance to the shop. "Not the answer I was looking for," he said menacingly. "I'll just step outside for a moment, pay a little visit to Bellatrix…"

And he started for the door.

"_Wait_!" Peter practically shouted the word, desperation making his voice higher-pitched than usual. Several patrons looked at him in surprise, and he felt himself flushing slightly under the increased attention. But it didn't matter. None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was making sure Avery didn't walk out that door.

"Wait," he said again, breathless. "Just… wait."

And Avery turned back to him with a smirk on his lips.

* * *

><p>"Dad? What do you do when you go to the Ministry?"<p>

If Charlus Potter was surprised by his son's question, it did not show on his features. He merely turned away from the fire and smiled at James, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I meet with the Minister or Department Heads, usually. Why?"

James shrugged and looked around the parlor, trying to put his thoughts into words. It wasn't easy to do, particularly with memories of his arguments with Remus and Vanessa continually invading his mind, but his father was patiently waiting for an answer, so he finally said, "You've never worked at the Ministry. How do you… influence… events there?"

Mr. Potter considered this for a long moment, then asked, "Why the sudden curiosity?"

"Well," James replied with a smile, "I have to think about my life after my Quidditch career is over, don't I?"

In truth, he was thinking about his first date with Vanessa and the conversation he had overhead in Diagon Alley. Malfoy had been so dismissive of his ability to intervene in society, to make a difference, and Snape had certainly echoed that sentiment.

Malfoy had also commented on Mr. Potter's age, and James hadn't given that much prior thought. His parents had been old when he was born, and they were old in his childhood and in his teenage years. To him, they had always been old, and it might have made them different from the Blacks or the Lupins or the Pettigrews, but it hadn't really mattered.

But now, when he actually studied his father, he saw things he had missed before. Mr. Potter's eyes, which had once been the same dark hazel of James' own, had faded to a softer gray. His skin was translucent and wrinkled, and his shoulders were slightly hunched. His age seemed to weigh on him, slowing him down and interfering in his life even if he never complained about it.

Like most children, James had never given much thought to the aging process or the fact that his parents would not be around forever. But one day it would be up to James to carry on the Potter legacy.

Mr. Potter folded his hands in his lap and looked at the flames dancing in the fireplace as he answered, "Money and prestige, James. That is all it takes to make a difference in the world."

James glanced at the fire as well. "That's not fair," he said quietly. Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow at him, and James cleared his throat and explained, "I was thinking about people like Remus… or Peter… or Lily and Mary… they don't have money or prestige but they're good people. Better than… than some others. Maybe even better than most."

"There are other ways of making a difference," Mr. Potter replied. "It just generally takes more effort." He paused thoughtfully, then said, "Are you interested in politics, James? You never have been before."

"Well, after Quidditch…" James started, but Mr. Potter waved away that answer with dismissive gesture of one hand.

"Surely you've realized by now that you will never actually need to work if you don't want to," the older wizard said.

It was James' turn to look surprised, and he asked a bit sharply, "Are you suggesting I spend my life loafing about?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Mr. Potter's lips, and he said, "Of course not. But since you've never been interested in politics before, I am curious as to why you are now. It's obviously more than just a desire to have a plan for after Quidditch."

"I've been interested in politics," James protested. "You know my views on the Dark Arts and pureblood prejudice."

Mr. Potter sighed. "Being against the Dark Arts is not the same as being involved in politics. It isn't enough to just say that you don't like those who practice that sort of magic." He leaned forward. "You are a Potter. That name will allow you to shape the world around you. It will allow you to change laws and regulations, to fight for or against social norms, to alter the lives of others. But you have to understand the full ramifications of what you are doing. And you have to know _why_ you are doing it."

"Because I don't…"

"You don't like the Dark Arts, I know. But that is not my point. You have to know why you are using politics instead of… say… brute force."

James narrowed his eyes slightly, and thought of Hogwarts. He'd never used _brute_ force there, but he certainly used force. All his pranks, all the things he did just for laughs… they relied on his magical abilities. His charm and popularity might have gotten him out of trouble on more than one occasion, but it was never those attributes that won duels.

"The world is not a simple place, James. You are not at Hogwarts any longer."

"Yeah," James said heavily. "I'm getting that."

"If you decide to follow in my footsteps, you must understand that you will no longer be fighting just for yourself. You will be fighting for other people, and sometimes you will be fighting battles that you know will cost you, battles from which you personally will gain nothing. But you will fight them anyway, because they are worth fighting."

Mr. Potter's expression became thoughtful, and his gaze moved away from James. His eyes were unfocused, and he was clearly thinking about something. James waited patiently to see what else his father had to say, but the older man did not appear to even remember that his son was in the room.

James ran a hand through his hair and thought back to his argument with Lily. Wolfsbane had been a battle that would cost her. She stood to gain nothing but the instructor's scorn. She might not even manage to succeed at the program, no matter how successful her project was.

But she had said that she was still willing to go through with it, and it was only her fear of giving aid and insistence to the truly Dark werewolves that had stopped her.

He knew it was more than just that fear, though he had no idea what else was holding her back. But she had been willing to sacrifice her own happiness for this, at least in theory.

Just like Remus was willing to sacrifice his own happiness, to allow himself to be treated like a monster, if it would prevent other people from getting hurt.

Mr. Potter cleared his throat and James turned his attention back to his father.

"There are many pureblood families that do not agree with us. As you grow older, James, they will exert an incredible amount of pressure on you. No matter what you do, they will not leave you alone. But if you try to involve yourself in the Ministry, the pressure will be even greater. Are you ready for that?"

James opened his mouth defiantly, prepared to declare that _of course_ he was ready for it. But he paused, hesitating somewhat. This wasn't Hogwarts. He wasn't talking to a teacher or to one of his friends or even to one of his enemies. He was talking to his father, and he'd never had to defend his beliefs at home. He'd never had to pretend that he always had the answers.

So he tilted his head to the side and asked curiously, "Do _you_ think I am ready for that?"

"Do you want to make a difference in the world?"

"Of course!" James replied, surprised by the question. Wasn't that the entire point of the conversation. "Why wouldn't I?"

Mr. Potter laughed, though his laughter sounded weary. "I was never good at Quidditch. I was only average at my studies. I was never particularly popular in school, and though I learned how to charm people, it never came as naturally to me as it does to you."

James grinned. "It worked well enough on Mum."

Mr. Potter returned the smile, but said in a serious tone, "My point is that there were less options open to me than there are to you. You can make the world a better place by being a teacher or a Healer or a barrister or professional Quidditch player."

James wrinkled his nose. He loved Quidditch, and he always would. But it was odd to hear his father talk about that profession with such… respect.

Mr. Potter must have seen the expression on James' face and interpreted it correctly, because he said, "Never underestimate how much people need to have games and sports in their lives. We all need fun, and we all need to be able to care passionately about even the more trivial matters. Such as which team wins the Cup."

James nodded.

"When I graduated from Hogwarts, I had only a few things going for me," Mr. Potter continued. "Your mother, of course. My last name and my money. And my _need_ to fight back against the pureblood propaganda that was everywhere. I chose my path because your mother began working at the Ministry, and following her seemed like a good enough idea. But if you really want to fight pureblood prejudice and the Dark Arts, then I can only give you one piece of advice."

James perked up eagerly.

"Figure out what career will make you happy, and then figure out how to take that career and turn it into an opportunity to change the world."

James accepted this in silence. It was good advice, but it meant figuring out what would make him happy, and he wasn't really sure where to start on that. Quidditch, obviously. And his friends. And Lily… well, sometimes. But what else?

"You still haven't told me why you started thinking about this," Mr. Potter said pointedly.

James shrugged. He had no intention of burdening his father with the conversation he had heard in Knockturn Alley or with the knowledge of his arguments with Lily and Remus.

Instead, he said vaguely, "I had a few disagreements and… was angry about some things."

"Who were you angry at?" Mr. Potter asked.

James sighed heavily and didn't answer. He wouldn't have even known what to say, how to explain it all. He was angry at Lily for her words to Remus, and he was angry at Remus for his apparent decision to give up, and he was angry and Malfoy and Snape and Lestrange and whoever else was involved in their plans.

But mostly…

Mostly he was angry at himself. For putting Lily in danger - because he knew, absolutely knew even if he didn't want to admit it, that Remus was right; Lily could have been bitten or worse. And he was angry at himself for not being able to help Remus more. And for snapping at Vanessa and Prewitt and Shaw.

And for only just now realizing that maybe he hadn't grown up as much as he thought he had.

* * *

><p>"One of my friends is an idiot."<p>

Finding James Potter standing outside her door with a dozen white roses was not something Vanessa had expected to happen. Having him standing there looking abashed and unsure was even more of a surprise.

"I see," she said, eyeing the roses and wondering if his bewildering comment was the beginning of an apology. She wasn't sure yet if she was going to accept the apology. Could some roses really make up for the way he had treated her?

"Well, I suppose it is possible that all of my friends are idiots," James continued thoughtfully. "I certainly am."

Vanessa found a smile pulling at her lips despite her initial desire to stay angry at him.

"But it's really… this one friend in particular," James said. "He said some things that upset me. He has this… problem. It makes people think he is a monster. And now he apparently thinks it as well."

"Oh, you mean because he's a werewolf?" Vanessa asked.

James gaped at her.

She sighed. "I assume we're talking about Lupin?" James nodded slowly, and she said, "James, he had to register his status when he was first bitten. The Ministry knows he is a werewolf, and that bit of information isn't exactly secret. They might not advertise it, but it doesn't mean that they go out of their way to keep it hidden, either. Any reporter… any _good_ reporter… can get that information without trouble."

"But… at Hogwarts…" James protested weakly.

"This isn't Hogwarts," Vanessa said flatly. "Dumbledore and the other teachers might have turned a blind eye to Lupin's condition, and certainly they would have been able to prevent knowledge of his status from being given to most of the students and their parents. But this _isn't_ Hogwarts, and things are different. This secret won't stay a secret much longer."

"The Ministry just gives out this information?" James demanded, sounding both angry and disgusted.

Vanessa shook her head. "Not really. I had to charm Bridges a bit before he would give me anything, and he knew he was violating protocol when he did it. But everyone in that office has loose lips."

James accepted this in silence, and Vanessa felt just a little bit of pity for him. He truly wasn't ready for the real world. He clearly believed that he could protect his friends out here the same way he had at Hogwarts, but nothing was ever going to be that simple. Not anymore.

"You were investigating Remus?" James asked finally.

Vanessa shook her head. "No, I was investigating you and Black. I stumbled across Lupin mostly by accident." She ran a hand through her hair and, off James' questioning look, explained, "It was after out date in Knockturn Alley. I was looking for some more clues as to what exactly Malfoy, Lestrange, and Snape were planning. I… uh…" She paused, trailing off uncomfortably. She hadn't really ever planned on having this particular conversation with James, but now that the topic was here, she couldn't really avoid it.

"You what?"

"I heard what Malfoy said about werewolves, and how you reacted to it. So I decided to see if you knew any werewolves. That's why I went to the Ministry. That's why I checked the registry. That's how I found Lupin."

"Why didn't you just _ask_ me?" James demanded, hurt flickering through his eyes.

Vanessa laughed. "Would you have answered honestly if I did?" James didn't reply, probably because he knew he couldn't answer in the affirmative, and Vanessa nodded to the roses he was still holding. "Are those for me?"

"Oh. Yeah." He shoved them at her. "I was coming over to apologize to you for what I said after practice. I don't think that you're only dating me for the stories." He cleared his throat, then met her gaze and asked flatly, "Are you?"

"James…"

"You investigated me behind my back and then lied to my face about it," James said pointedly.

Vanessa took the flowers. "Yeah, I did. And I'm sorry." She frowned for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain why she had done the things she had done. James had every reason to be suspicious of her motives since she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him what she was doing.

But she truly wasn't using him.

"I can charm a scandal out of pretty much any wizard, and with those stories, I can sell newspapers to pretty much anyone," she said at last. "But when we were in Knockturn Alley, and afterwards when we were trying to figure out what those three wizards were planning… I felt like I was doing something… _useful_. I'm good at reporting. I'm good at flirting. I'm good at manipulating people. And I enjoy doing all of it. So this seemed like a good way to put those talents to work."

James stared at her, then murmured, "Figure out what career will make you happy, and then figure out how to take that career and turn it into an opportunity to change the world."

She blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," James said with a smile and a slight shake of his head. He cleared his throat again, then asked, "So what clues did you uncover in your charming and flirting and manipulating?"

Vanessa grinned, then stepped away from the door. "Why don't you come in? I'll put the flowers in a vase, you can tell me why Lupin thinks he is a monster and what you plan to do about it, and I can tell you about what I found."

James nodded in agreement, and followed her inside.

* * *

><p>AN: So here's one of the things I always found a little odd in the books...<p>

It was a big deal when Snape revealed that Remus was a werewolf at the end of PoA, which made it seem as though very few people knew of his status.

On the other hand, Umbridge was responsible for drafting previous anti-werewolf legislation that prevented Remus from being able to get a job, indicating that any potential employer, and likely people at the Ministry responsible for enforcing such legislation, knew what he was. And if people knew what he was, then why was it a big secret? I get that it was probably not something people talked about all the time, and Remus wouldn't just walk up to random strangers and tell them he was a werewolf, but since this information wasn't top secret either, I would imagine people could get their hands on it if they wanted.


	14. I Think You'd Find

Chapter Fourteen: I Think You'd Find

It was raining.

That wasn't unusual in London – even in the summer – but it caught Remus' attention because it seemed so fitting. The drizzly gray sky reflected his rapidly souring disposition, and just as the rain gave no indication of stopping any time soon, his frustration and moodiness appeared prepared to hold on forever.

And Mr. Pracket wasn't helping.

The owner of the bookstore was glaring at Remus as the young wizard tried his best to organize yet another shelf of books. A new shipment had come in earlier in the week, all the books needed to be added to the shelves, and Remus clearly wasn't working fast enough for his boss.

Remus supposed that he couldn't really blame Mr. Pracket for being annoyed. Remus _should_ have been working more efficiently, but the argument with James still weighed heavily on him, and it preoccupied most of his thoughts and interfered with his ability to work competently. Even now, under his boss' stern gaze, Remus found his thoughts wandering.

"Lupin, pay attention to what you are doing!" Mr. Pracket snapped, snatching a book off the shelf. "Do you really think this book belongs here?"

Remus stared at the book. "Um…"

"It's fiction, Lupin, as it clearly states on the cover. And what section are you in?"

Remus glanced at the shelves around him, then said guiltily, "Poetry."

"And does fiction prose go in the poetry section?" Mr. Pracket demanded. He didn't wait for Remus to reply – and Remus wasn't entirely sure if it was a rhetorical question, anyway – but instead spun on his heel and stalked towards the appropriate section.

Remus sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered although his boss had moved too far away to hear the apology. And it wasn't as though apology would have mattered anyway; his boss was not the forgiving type.

He glanced towards the window and watched as the rain splattered against the glass and dripped in rivulets down towards the sidewalk.

His next transformation was in two weeks. In two weeks, he would be at St. Mungo's under the care of people who thought of him as a monster, a beast that didn't deserve even basic amenities.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He had met some Healers who didn't seem to think of him in that way. On a few occasions, when he was younger, he would wake up after a transformation at St. Mungo's and find himself wrapped in bandages and being force-fed pain-reliving potions by Healers who would coddle him until he had recovered. They saw him as a poor boy who had been cursed.

But they were the exception, not the rule.

"Lupin! Stop daydreaming and get back to work."

Remus jolted at Mr. Pracket's sharp voice, and forced away his dreary thoughts. "Sorry, sir," he said, loud enough this time to be heard.

Mr. Pracket snorted in reply, glared at Remus once more, and stomped away.

At least, Remus reflected bitterly, he wasn't the only one Mr. Pracket treated so poorly. Every time his shift overlapped with that of the other employees, he was privy to scenes of Mr. Pracket yelling at them as well.

"Huh. There are so many things in your life that I don't like."

Remus started at the sound of James' voice and spun around, wondering how his friend had managed to enter the bookstore and sneak up on him. He doubted James had used his invisibility cloak to do it because someone would have noticed the door opening and closing on its own and a young man appearing out of thin air.

But then, he probably hadn't needed to do anything quite so drastic. Given how distracted Remus had been, it wouldn't have been much of a challenge to surprise him. James only needed to walk quietly.

"Mr. Pracket isn't so bad," Remus replied, shaking his head and trying not to act too surprised that James was here, speaking to him.

James rolled his eyes. "Right," he drawled, "and I'm a Hufflepuff."

"You would have made a good Hufflepuff," Remus said, biting back a smirk when James glowered at him in protest. Then he glanced worriedly at Mr. Pracket and said, "I'm not sure this is the best time to chat."

James frowned. "The man is a git."

Remus shrugged. "It's a decent paying job," he said. "What more could I ask for?"

"Can't you look for a job where you're actually treated with respect?" James retorted, his features clouding with annoyance.

Remus chewed his lip and looked down at the box of books at his feet, the one he was supposed to be sorting and organizing and shelving. The job actually paid well – better than any other job he head seen. He just wasn't qualified for much in the Muggle world, and the magical one was out of the question, so he had to settle for what he could get.

Part of the reason Mr. Pracket could get away with treating his employees so horribly was because he paid them well enough to keep them on despite the verbal abuse.

Not, of course, that this was something James would ever really understand. Financial concerns meant nothing to someone who never had to worry about them.

James seemed to sense that Remus didn't want to talk about his job, so he cleared his throat and said, "Look, I won't take up too much of your time since I don't actually want to get you in more trouble with your boss. I just wanted to apologize."

Remus' eyebrows rose towards his hairline. Apologize? _That_ was unexpected.

"I'm never going to be alright with you going to St. Mungo's," James continued, running a hand through his hair and messing it up. "They treat you like filth, and I'm never going to be alright with you acting as though you don't deserve better than that. But you're my friend, and if this is what you want to do, then I will at least accept that it is your decision."

"Thanks," Remus said quietly, surprised by how much that simple statement meant to him.

"But you have to promise me that you won't let anything Evans said about werewolves being monsters change how you think about yourself," James continued.

Remus didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure he could make that promise to James because – even if he didn't want to admit it to himself and certainly didn't want to admit it to any of them – Lily's words _had_ made him wonder if he was a monster deep down. After all, he had spent the day after every full moon laughing off close calls and his friends' injuries, somehow deluding himself into believing that it wasn't a big deal, that running through the Forbidden Forest or Hogsmeade wasn't really that dangerous, that no one was going to get hurt.

What kind of person did that?

How could he think about all of those near misses and his own irresponsible behavior and not come to the conclusion that Lily had been right in her disgust?

But then, maybe James already knew how he felt.

"Moony?" James prompted.

Remus picked up one of the books. "I have to get back to work," he said quietly.

James reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to just drop the subject," he said firmly.

Remus grinned. "I didn't for even a second believe that you would," he said with a light laugh. "You're not exactly known for giving up on things, even when you're wrong."

"Did you just call me stubborn?" James demanded in mock outrage.

"Actually, I was implying something more along the lines of pigheaded."

James' eyes were twinkling with laughter even as he struggled to keep a frown on his features. "You take that back," he threatened.

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but then caught sight of Mr. Pracket looking towards him again. He quickly schooled his expression back into one of the utmost concentration and looked down at the box of books once more.

"James…"

James wrinkled his nose, but said, "I know, I know. You need to get back to work. He's still a prat."

"It's fine, Prongs," Remus said, shaking his head.

James nodded reluctantly, clearly not thrilled with the thought of leaving his friend. But Mr. Pracket was drawing closer, and James staying would only get Remus into even more trouble, so he turned his steps towards the door.

It was still raining.

* * *

><p>Sirius narrowed his eyes as Peter walked nervously down the street. He felt slightly guilty about tailing his friend like this, but Peter had been acting odd – shifty, even – and Sirius wanted answers. When he'd tried to broach the topic with Peter the day before, the other wizard had just shrugged it off, denying that anything was wrong.<p>

But he hadn't been able to meet Sirius' eyes.

So now Sirius was following him, desperately trying to convince himself that there was nothing really wrong with spying on one of his closest friends.

Any doubts he might have had about the plan, however, vanished the moment he saw Peter approach Marcus Avery and another wizard that Sirius vaguely recognized as a Slytherin a couple years ahead of him at Hogwarts.

Peter looked scared – even from a distance, Sirius could tell that much. His first instinct was to rush forward in defense of his friend, but he hesitated. Peter might look scared, but he was still walking forward with determination. It was his choice to be there; he was the one seeking out the other two wizards.

But why?

Sirius crept closer, hugging the shadows and trying to hear the conversation, but the three of them were standing out in the open, and there was no way he could get close enough to hear anything without being seen.

He debated sneaking forward in his Animagus form, but Peter would immediately recognize him, and if the fourth Marauder was attempting to hide the topic of this apparently clandestine meeting, he would stop talking the moment Sirius got close enough to hear anything.

Sirius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really wished he had James' invisibility cloak.

But he didn't, so he grumbled sourly under his breath and contented himself with watching from a distance.

As soon as Peter was alone, he and Sirius were going to have a little chat.

* * *

><p>"You were <em>following<em> me?" Peter demanded, sounding offended. It was the third time he had repeated that question.

"Yes, Wormtail," Sirius answered once again, spitting the words through clenched teeth. "So why don't you tell us what the bloody hell were you doing talking to Avery?"

"How could you spy on me?" Peter asked, his voice high-pitched and nervous.

"Padfoot," James cut in quickly before Sirius could answer the question, "calm down. I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation for all of this."

He had returned home after his conversation with Remus, and had been startled to find Sirius and Peter waiting for him. Mr. Potter had let them into the house and allowed them to wait in the large living room, and it was clear that James had walked into the middle of a vicious argument. But all it had taken was thirty seconds of listening, and he felt as though he understood fairly well what was going on.

His two friends seemed to be talking in circles, each repeating their lines over and over. But Sirius was growing more irate and Peter was drawing in on himself, and James figured now was a good time to intervene.

"There'd better be a good explanation," Sirius snapped.

James turned to Peter. "Why were you talking to Avery?" he asked calmly.

"It was nothing," Peter squeaked. "Really. I just… ran into him and we exchanged insults. That's all."

"That's a lie," Sirius growled. "I _saw_ you approach him. You sought him out. You talked for a few minutes, and it was more than just insults. _Why_?"

Peter flinched and folded his arms over his chest, hugging himself tightly.

"Padfoot," James said again, a clear warning in his tone. Sirius glared at him, but held his hands up in a sign of surrender and backed away.

"Fine," he muttered. "Fine."

"Peter," James said, "just tell us. Look, if Avery is threatening you or something, we can take care of it. We can take care of him."

"How?" Peter asked sharply. He paused, then let out a long breath and said, "This isn't Hogwarts. You can't just hex him and assume that will take care of everything."

James groaned inwardly but kept his expression impassive. He knew this wasn't Hogwarts – that particular bit of information had been beaten into his head several times in the past few days. But Peter had clearly gotten himself involved in something, and James wasn't about to stand by and do nothing.

Sirius, on the other hand, bared his teeth and said, "Want to bet on that?"

James frowned at his friend. "Sirius!" he admonished again even as Peter backed away from both of them with a scared look on his features.

Sirius spun around to face James and snarled, "Avery and that other Slytherin start showing an interest in Peter just a couple weeks after you hear Malfoy planning to tear you down and drag me back to my _family_." He spat the last word venomously, looking both furious and revolted. "Do you really think those two things aren't related?"

And then James understood.

Sirius could be calm and level-headed on occasion. In fact, there were times when he surprised everyone by being more mature than James or Peter. But there was one topic that still got under his skin, one topic that could push all of his buttons and send him into a rage that even James couldn't always talk him out of.

Malfoy was trying to force Sirius to rejoin his family.

Avery was pulling Peter into some plot.

And Regulus had not actually denied being involved in whatever this plot was. Regulus was one of the few remaining Blacks who still understood Sirius, and still knew how to get to him. And he let others pressure him into doing what they wanted him to do, didn't stand up for himself, went with the crowd merely because it was expected.

"I'm sure Regulus doesn't know about this," James said quietly.

Sirius laughed bitterly and didn't answer.

But Peter did. "He does, actually."

"_What_?" Sirius practically exploded.

Peter cringed and took another involuntary step backwards, away from Sirius.

"Sirius, calm down," James said, reprimanding his friend yet again. "Just calm down."

"Don't," Sirius snarled. "Just… don't. Don't act like you have _any_ idea…" He stopped, abruptly trailing off, and turned away from James once more.

James stared at him, at a loss. He knew perfectly well what Sirius had started to say – that James didn't know what it was like to be from that kind of family. And that was true. James had no idea what it was like to be anything other than supported and loved and adored by his parents.

Sirius' shoulders were stiff with tension and pent up anger, and James sighed.

"Peter," he said, forcing his thoughts back to the topic at hand, "why was Avery talking to you?"

Peter swallowed nervously, and squeaked out an apologetic response, "He wanted to know why Shaw wouldn't let you play for the team."

James narrowed his eyes. "How did he even know about that?" he demanded furiously.

Peter shrugged – a quick, jerky movement. "I don't… I think the other Slytherin told him. Uh… Morrison? I think that is his name."

"Morrison?" James repeated.

Peter stared at the ground miserably. "He was a few years ahead of us. Played for Slytherin. Chaser." He chanced a quick look at Sirius, but the other wizard still wasn't looking at him. Peter blinked a few times, then said, "He was the one with Avery today."

James, too, looked at Sirius, and Sirius finally turned around and gave a sharp nod. "Yeah, that sounds right," he said, his voice low and venomous. "I _knew_ I recognized the wizard with Avery."

"How did Morrison know any of what happened with Shaw and I?" James asked, confused. He didn't bother asking why Morrison would do something like this – that much was obvious. He was a Slytherin, and there was no doubt in James' mind that the House ties and his desire to get revenge for not making the Wasps would be enough incentive for Morrison to work with Avery.

"Does it matter?" Sirius asked coldly. "He knew, he told Avery. End of story."

James accepted this in thoughtful silence, then looked over at Peter. "What did _you_ tell Avery?"

Peter wouldn't meet James' gaze as he answered in a barely audible tone, "I told him you had an off day and snapped at the other players. Because you got into a fight with us."

"You _told_ him?" Sirius snapped incredulously. "You actually told him?" He took a threatening step towards Peter. "Did you tell him about the argument, too? Did you tell him that Remus is a werewolf?"

"What? No. No, of course not!" Peter retorted defensively, sounding horrified and upset that Sirius would even consider that possibility. "I just said the argument was with all of us. And it was… kind of."

"But why did you tell him anything at all?" James asked. "Why didn't you just ignore him? Or come to us? Why would you ever betray us like this?"

"I didn't have a choice!" Peter said, desperately pleading.

Sirius snorted derisively. "Of course you had a choice," he said. "You just made the wrong one."

"What did he threaten you with?" James asked harshly, feeling his own temper start to flare. While he had gladly defended Peter from Sirius' anger before, it had been primarily because he believed that anger to be misplaced. He had assumed it was all a misunderstanding, hadn't honestly believed that Peter would give in to whatever Avery had wanted.

He hadn't expected to be wrong.

The bitter disillusionment he felt was growing, turning to acid in his stomach.

"He said he'd burn down my dad's shop," Peter admitted reluctantly. "He and Bellatrix Lestrange…"

"Oh, so cousin Bella is involved?" Sirius growled. "_Wonderful_."

"The shop means everything to my dad," Peter said frantically, appealing to James. "I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't… I had to protect… please, James, you have to believe that I…"

"Why didn't you tell us what was going on?" James interrupted. "We could have protected you. We could have protected your father."

"How?" Peter retorted. "_How_? You can't stand guard around his shop every hour of every day forever!"

"We could have reported it to… to the Ministry," James said.

"And said what?" Peter asked, his voice practically cracking with emotion. "We don't have proof. All we have is my word, and Avery would deny it, and who do you think the Ministry is going to believe? A half-blood or an Avery and a Lestrange?"

"So you told Avery that there was a rift in the group," Sirius said icily, "even though you knew he was going to use it against us? Against James and I?"

Peter dropped his gaze to the ground again and didn't answer. The silence that fell between the three wizards was tense and thick.

"What did Avery say about Regulus?" Sirius asked finally.

Peter shook his head and scuffed at the floor with the toe of his shoe. "Not much. Just… after I told him that we'd fought… he said Regulus would be pleased to know… and something about Regulus being involved."

"What specifically did he say? How is Regulus involved?" Sirius repeated dangerously, stepping forward until he was directly in front of Peter. He loomed over the smaller boy, glaring down at him with a mixture of anger and disgust.

"I don't know," Peter practically sobbed. "I don't remember. It was just… maybe something about _getting_ Regulus involved? I don't… I don't know."

Sirius looked about ready to punch Peter, so James grabbed his arm and forcefully dragged him backwards. Peter was looking at the floor again, his shoulders hunched.

"You should go," James said quietly, and Peter started in surprise and looked about ready to protest. James ignored that, and continued, "Sirius and I will figure out what to do about Avery, and you _will_ tell us if he contacts you again. But for now… just go."

Peter practically bolted from the room.

"Pity we can't just beat the information about of Avery," Sirius said a moment after Peter had left. "Figure out all his plans that way."

"I doubt that will work," James said, though he couldn't deny that he was tempted by the idea.

"Don't know what else to do. Avery isn't going to tell us anything," Sirius said, shaking his head.

"True," James said with a frown. "Maybe Morrison is a better bet. Doesn't sound like he is as involved in this as Avery, so maybe he'd be more willing to…"

"Morrison isn't going to tell _you_ anything," Sirius interrupted pointedly.

"No," James agreed thoughtfully, a conspiratorial grin forming on his features, "he's not going to tell _me_. But I know someone who is quite adept at charming information out of anyone. And I'm willing to bet anything that he'll tell _her_."

* * *

><p>It was raining.<p>

Peter scowled as he walked down the road, away from the Potter's home. James and Sirius just didn't understand what it was like to be less than perfect. They were able to do anything. James' parents were old, true – but they were also Potters, and that made them almost untouchable. Sirius didn't care at all about his family, except for maybe Regulus, and he was perfectly able to do everything on his own. But Peter didn't have that. He wasn't brave and he wasn't strong, but he did care about his father, and he couldn't do _nothing_ while Avery threatened the one thing that made his father happy.

And what would happen if James and Sirius decided to confront Avery? What would Avery do to his father's shop then?

As if on cue, a voice said softly, "Fancy a little chat with your friends, did you?" and Peter nearly jumped out of his skin.

He spun around and found himself staring into the cold black eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. She raised an eyebrow at him, lips curving into a smirk. "What's the matter, ickle Petey?" she cooed. "Surprised to see me?" She sidled up to him and continued in a whisper, "Didn't think we were keeping an eye on you, did you Petey?"

"You're following me?" Peter demanded, feeling the strangest sense of déjà vu. Wasn't think how his conversation with James and Sirius had started?

"Oh, not all the time," Bellatrix said with a cruel laugh. "Just enough to know that you aren't going to go running to Potter and dear cousin Sirius for help." Her eyes flicked past Peter towards the distant Potter home that was now fading into the gray mist. "Did you enjoy your chat?"

"I told you what you wanted to know," Peter said desperately. "I told you why James and Shaw argued. What more do you want from me?"

Bellatrix reached out and rested a hand on his arm. "What did you tell your little friends?" she asked.

"N-nothing," Peter stammered.

"You're lying," Bellatrix said in a sing-song voice. "Liar, liar…"

"I'm… I'm not…" Peter stammered, but he'd never been good at lying, and he couldn't hold Bellatrix's gaze for more than a moment. He looked away, frantically searching for something to say, some way to regain control of the situation.

"You told them, didn't you?" Bellatrix hissed, her voice twisting in anger. "I thought we had an understanding?" And her grip on his arm grew tighter, her fingers biting into his skin.

"I… I…"

She dropped his arm. "Well… perhaps we can work with this," she said, the anger disappearing almost immediately, replaced once more with her smirk. "You are not going to tell your friends about this meeting," she ordered. "Let them continue thinking they have the upper hand. Let them continue thinking they can actually win."

"I'm not going to keep lying to them," Peter protested.

"You know," she said softly, dangerously, "it would be a pity if your father's shop burned to the ground." She leaned forward, eyes glittering. "It would be even more of a pity if he was trapped _in it_ when it burned down."

"You… you _wouldn't_…" Peter stammered, horrified by the threat.

Bellatrix flashed him a smile. "I quite enjoyed this little talk," she said, then she turned on the spot and disappeared.

Peter closed his eyes and tried to force back the feeling of helplessness growing inside him.

What was he supposed to do now?

He continued walking along the road, feeling damp and miserable and so very alone.

It was still raining.

* * *

><p>AN: I tried really hard to get James/Lily interactions into this chapter… but it didn't happen. On the other hand, the next chapter has a lot of James/Lily… so that's good… right?


	15. That Your Friends Would Forgive You

Chapter Fifteen: That Your Friends Would Forgive You

She was eight weeks into the program – and that meant that there were only four weeks left. So, really… this was an incredibly stupid thing to do. There wasn't enough time to make it worthwhile, and even if there had been time to finish the project, success wouldn't be enough to protect her from the wrath of all the people determined to continue this discrimination. Nothing good would come from this.

And yet somehow that knowledge didn't stop her from drawing a deep breath, squaring her shoulders with resolve, and marching up to Healer Lanwick.

"Yes, Ms. Evans?" the Healer asked.

"I've decided to change my potion again," Lily said. "I'm going back to working on Wolfsbane."

Healer Lanwick peered at her severely, and Lily was acutely aware that everyone in the classroom had stopped their brewing and was watching her. Emma was leaning forward, her expression hard to read, but she didn't seem in the least bit surprised. Fenwick was biting back a grin he clearly didn't want the Healer to see.

Eliza Greengrass was staring at Lily with a calculating look in her eyes.

"There is only one month in the program, Ms. Evans," Healer Lanwick said finally. "You were doing well with spattergroit. Don't foolishly throw away your chances now."

"This is what I want to do," Lily said unyieldingly. "Wolfsbane is the potion I want to work on. I never should have abandoned it in the first place." She hesitated, then added, "And I worked on it for the first few weeks of the program. I have good enough notes, I think I can do well with it."

The older witch shook her head and said coldly, "I cannot encourage this waste of time."

"It _isn't_ a waste of time," Lily protested, forcing herself to reign in her temper. She did not want to get into an argument with the Healer. Just switching back to Wolfsbane was going to give the other woman plenty of reasons to dislike her, and there was no point in adding to that. If she had thought she could change the Healer's mind about Wolfsbane, that would be different. But Lanwick was set in her beliefs, and Lily was starting to accept that she couldn't do anything about that.

But she also wasn't asking for permission. She'd made up her mind, and she was not going to change it.

Healer Lanwick folded her arms over her chest and said pointedly, "A potioneer must know which potions are a waste of time and which are not. Otherwise she will end up wasting valuable resources on a project doomed to fail. Any student who does not possess such a trait will not make it to the next stage of this program."

Lily nodded slowly. She'd known all along what the consequences of her choice would be, and had prepared herself for it. But it still hurt to hear the words, to know what was being implied. All her dreams, everything she wanted for her life… she was throwing them all away.

Was it worth it?

Unbidden, James' expression of disgust and regret floated through her mind, and his tired words echoed in her thoughts. _You really aren't the girl I thought you were._

And without really knowing or understanding why, she found herself wanting to prove him wrong.

She met the Healer's gaze. "I know," she said. "And I don't care. This is what I am going to do." She didn't bother waiting for an answer - the Healer wouldn't have anything worthwhile to say. Instead, she merely turned and walked back to her station.

Eliza was still watching her.

* * *

><p>"So… there is a rumor floating around that James Potter is dating Vanessa Lovely," Mary said as she ran her fingers over the nearest set of robes.<p>

Lily glanced over at her friend. "Who?" she asked, curious despite herself.

She hadn't really planned on spending so much time shopping in Diagon Alley. It was supposed to be a quick trip to the apothecary to pick up some supplies she needed, but Mary had insisted on coming along to buy new robes, and somehow the short trip had already lasted over an hour.

"She's a reporter for the _Daily Prophet_," Mary said. She held up a pair of green robes with silver stitching and embroidery near the neckline. "These would look wonderful on you."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I don't need robes, Mary. I thought we were looking for you." She frowned, then said, "Besides, those are Slytherin colors. Shouldn't you be encouraging me to buy something red and gold?"

Mary eyed Lily's hair and said flatly, "You would look horrible in Gryffindor colors."

"I wore our colors all the time at Hogwarts," Lily protested, thinking of the red and gold scarf she had bought at the end of her first year. It had upset Severus, but she'd wanted something to help her fit in, to make her really feel like a part of her House. Like she _belonged_.

"Yes, and if I recall correctly," Mary replied, "I kept trying to talk you out of it."

Lily laughed. "True," she agreed. Then she asked, "So… Vanessa Lovely?"

Mary gave her a wicked smile. "You're interested in Potter's love life?"

"Of course not," Lily said quickly, flushing darkly at Mary's words. "But you brought it up so I thought maybe you wanted to talk about it." Then, after a pause, she said, "Besides, that name sounds familiar, though I don't know why."

"Hm…" Mary set the green robes back and continued browsing. "She's a Quidditch reporter."

"Oh," Lily said, "I think I read an article she wrote about Potter when he first joined the Wasps."

Mary spun around and gaped at her. "You read an article about Quidditch?" she asked, shocked.

Lily shrugged. "I was on a date, and Caradoc wanted to read it. I don't remember much, though. It was flattering to Potter." She sighed. "I guess that explains why." Hadn't Caradoc said that this Vanessa Lovely was known for writing scandalous pieces? And yet she had fallen for James and written something glowing about him instead. So once again, James seemed to get everything he wanted.

It bothered her Lily more than she wanted to admit.

Mary nodded and gave Lily a scrutinizing look. But then she cleared her throat and said, "She is a few years older than us. I heard it was a real ugly duckling story."

Lily gave her a blank look.

Mary clicked her tongue against her teeth impatiently. "Hans Christian Andersen? He wrote fairy tales? Come on, Lils, you're Muggleborn. You don't have an excuse for not knowing who he is."

"I know who he is," Lily said defensively. _Of course_ she knew who the Danish author was. She might not know many wizarding fairy tales, but she knew all of the famous Muggle ones. "And I know the story, too," she added. "I'm just trying to figure out exactly what analogy we're going with here."

"She was gawky and plain until the last year of Hogwarts and then she turned into something else. Something… well, _lovely_. Which I am sure pleased her family since they have money and it wouldn't do for someone with prestige to have a less than beautiful daughter."

Lily snorted, then asked, "How do _you_ know so much about her?"

"I read her articles," Mary replied easily. "She's great for gossip." She pulled out another set of robes and held them up for Lily to see. "What about this?"

"It's very… purple," Lily said after a moment.

Mary gazed down at the robes. "What's wrong with purple?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Lily answered. "I just prefer black."

"Yes, but that's because you are boring," Mary shot back with a grin.

Lily shook her head in amusement. There really wasn't anything wrong with the robes. They were a classic cut, and would flatter Mary's figure without looking too trendy. But they were just very… purple.

"Go ahead and try them on," Lily said, "so that Madam Malkin can adjust them if necessary." She looked over at the windows, at the darkening sky that could be seen through the glass, and said, "I'd like to get to the apothecary before it closes."

"We haven't been here that long," Mary protested.

Lily raised one eyebrow in disbelief. "_Really_?"

Mary glanced at the clock on the wall above the door and gave an abashed smile. "Oh. Well, maybe we have." She draped the robes over one arm and suggested, "Why don't you go to the apothecary now? I can already tell that these need to be taken in a little, so I will probably be here a bit longer. We can meet here when you're doing getting your supplies."

"Sure," Lily agreed, trying – and failing – to hide her relief. She liked Mary, and she liked shopping with Mary, but sometimes she found the experience a bit overwhelming.

At least Mary hadn't forced her into trying anything on this time.

"Anyway," Mary said as Lily started towards the door, "I only brought up Vanessa Lovely because I was surprised James was dating her. She's not really his type."

Lily paused at the door and looked back. "Beautiful, wealthy, and writes articles about Quidditch?" she said. "How is she not his type?"

* * *

><p>He really should have been watching where he was going.<p>

That was the first thought that occurred to James as he collided into the person just exiting the apothecary and sent her sprawling.

The second thought was that of all the people he could have run into – literally – why did it have to be Lily?

The supplies went flying from her arms as she herself went sprawling. "Merlin, Potter," she snapped and she scrambled to her hands and knees, "watch it."

"Sorry," James said, inwardly kicking himself even as he automatically bent down to help her pick up the dropped supplies. "I was just in a hurry."

"Clearly," Lily said, rolling her eyes at him.

He hadn't seen her since the argument at her flat, and the harsh words they had spat at each other rang in his ears. He wondered vaguely if she was thinking about that, too.

"I'm sorry," James said again.

She straightened and took her belongings back from him. "Thank you," she muttered, eyes darting away from his face and landing on the cobblestone path at their feet. The silence between them was awkward and tense, and James couldn't help but be struck by the difference between this encounter and every other one they'd ever had.

Whether they were arguing or not, they'd never had trouble coming up with things to say to each other.

"Potion supplies?" he asked, nodding to the items in her arms.

"Yes," she said. There was another moment of silence, then she cleared her throat. "I don't want to delay you. You were obviously in a hurry."

"Right," James said, but his attention was caught on the main bag in her arms. "Aconite?"

Lily nodded and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. "Can't make Wolfsbane without it," she said. "At least, that's what Damocles Belby thought."

There was another uneasy silence, then James said. "You're working on Wolfsbane."

"Yeah, I guess," Lily replied. "I'm behind, so I'll probably have to work on it in the evenings and on weekends and I still don't know how far I'll get…" She stopped abruptly and shook her head as though pushing the thoughts away. There was another pause, still awkward, and then she said, "I need to get back to Madam Malkin's, I was meeting Mary there. And you were in a hurry somewhere."

"Right," James agreed. "I was."

Lily stepped around him and hurried along the street, and James found himself turning to watch her leave. It took him a moment to tear his eyes away from her retreating figure, but then he forcibly shoved thoughts of Lily away in favor of focusing on the issue at hand.

He was supposed to be meeting Vanessa.

He ran a hand through his hair idly and continued on his way along the road, oblivious to much of his surroundings. Of course, being oblivious was the reason he had knocked Lily to the ground just moments ago, but he couldn't get his mind off Sirius and Peter and Avery.

Sirius was still furious with Peter. James was, too, but his anger was already starting to cool, replaced by concern for his friend. Peter was in trouble, that much was clear. Avery had targeted him for a reason, and James couldn't help but feel that allowing the Marauders to fracture would be playing right into the Slytherin's hands.

And as much as James didn't like to admit it, Peter was right about one thing – he couldn't deal with Avery now as easily as he could have back at Hogwarts.

He sighed.

The cobblestone road curved, and as he came around the bend he saw Vanessa waiting for him outside Teas and Tinctures. It was a new tea shop, and he'd never been there. He wasn't sure if it was any good, but Vanessa liked these types of places, so it seemed like a safe bet for a date.

Although this date was going to be more business than romance…

Vanessa smiled at him and tucked a strand of auburn hair behind one ear. "You made it," she said, glancing down at the silver watch on her wrist. "I was starting to get worried."

"Sorry," James said. "I was rushing because I was already running late and I… I ran into Evans. Literally."

Vanessa smiled. "All that matters is that you are here now." She leaned forward and lowered her voice, "I have some interesting information for you."

James raised an eyebrow. "Let's go inside," he said, nodding towards the shop.

It took them a few minutes to get settled with tea and biscuits, and as they did so, James let his gaze wander around the place. It was frilly and girly and definitely not somewhere he would come on his own. But then, he'd never been much of a tea drinker anyway.

Firewhisky was so much better.

Vanessa took a sip of her tea and then said, "Morrison landed a spot as a reserve Chaser on Puddlemere United."

James practically choked on his own tea. "I didn't know they were looking for new players," he said, frowning. Puddlemere United was one of the best teams in the league. He would have heard about tryouts, and he certainly would have paid attention to them, even if his loyalty was now to the Wasps.

"The tryouts weren't open," Vanessa explained. "They only asked a few people. And Morrison was one of the few. Apparently he learned from his past mistakes, too, and impressed the Puddlemere captain by being a good team player."

James snorted but made no other comment. Morrison had to have been a decent team player to be on the Slytherin House team, so it wasn't a surprise that he would manage to be one again. But Puddlemere United? _Really_?

"Anyway, Puddlemere is paying close attention to the Wasps," Vanessa continued. "Particularly after everything that happened with Hespera Sabine. They don't trust Shaw, and they'd just love to get back at him. So when they heard that Shaw had been forced to bench one of his reserve Chasers…" and here she inclined her head towards James who at least had the good sense to look abashed at the memory of his actions that day, "they were delighted. Problems between players are never good for the team."

"So Morrison heard about it from his teammates," James said quietly. "And then what? He decided to tell Avery? How did he even know Avery was going after us?"

"I don't think he did know, not exactly," Vanessa answered. James frowned, but nodded for her to continue, and she said, "Morrison's mother works at the Ministry. She's an Undersecretary or something, I haven't quite gotten that figured out. She's been helping Lysander Lestrange – that's Rodolphus and Rabastan's father – with something. They've been spending a lot of time working together, and they talk…"

"So Avery knows about the argument because Mrs. Morrison told the Lestranges?" James surmised. "And then… then what? Avery asked Morrison to help him?" It made sense in a very convoluted and complicated sort of way. It also meant that Morrison's involvement in this was entirely coincidental, and even without him, without the knowledge he had provided, Avery would have gone after Peter.

James sighed. He wasn't sure if that made things better or worse.

"It's a small world," Vanessa murmured quietly. "Particularly among purebloods."

James couldn't argue with that.

"What are Mrs. Morrison and Lestrange working on?"

Vanessa grimaced. "That's where things get ugly," she said quietly. "You're not going to like it."

James raised an eyebrow, his thoughts wandering towards Peter and Avery, Sirius and Regulus, Lily and Remus. Right now his life seemed full of conflicts he didn't like – he had no idea how this could be worse.

"Turns out Lucius Malfoy's plan isn't as vague as it seemed when we overheard him in Knockturn Alley," Vanessa continued, tracing a finger over the ceramic handle of her mug and sighing heavily. "Abraxas Malfoy is drafting some legislation, and Mrs. Morrison and Lysander Lestrange are responsible for shoring up support for it. They want it accepted, and quickly."

"What's the legislation?" James asked with a growing sense of dread.

Vanessa's lips curled into a disdainful smile. "The Protection of Magical Heritage Act," she said angrily. "Designed to ensure that those who work in the Ministry and serve the interests of the public do everything they can to further the ideals of our society and protect our heritage so that magical cultural can be passed along to our children."

"Uh huh… and in English?"

"It's designed to keep Muggleborns out of the Ministry."

"_What_?" James demanded. "Is that even possible? Surely there is something… some other law or regulation or… or _something_… that says we can't discriminate that blatantly?"

"It's _not_ blatant," Vanessa replied, "not like the werewolf registry and the laws that prohibit Goblins and the like from carrying wands. It doesn't specifically state that Muggleborns can't work at the Ministry – I doubt any legislation could get away with that, at least not right now. But it uses euphemisms and talks about preserving our heritage and… It's not a law prohibiting Muggleborns from working there, it just makes it a little bit more difficult for them to get hired and keep their jobs. It's chipping away at their rights, making room for the next wave of discrimination…" She trailed off with a shrug. "It really all comes down to the same thing. If it passes – and Morrison is confident that it will – we'll be a step closer to declaring Muggleborns second-class citizens."

James narrowed his eyes. "We have to do something," he snarled. "We have to stop this!"

"Morrison said his mother believes there is a lot of support for it, and she would know," Vanessa said quietly. "I don't think there is anything we can do to keep it from getting introduced. But maybe if we can stall it long enough to gather up some opposition to it…" She paused, chewing her lip. "They're being quiet about it, you know. I think Malfoy knows this is going to be a harder battle than… say… the anti-werewolf legislation he drafted a couple weeks ago."

"But other people must know about it," James protested. "I mean… this is the _Ministry_. They don't keep secrets very well."

Vanessa laughed. "That's true. Maybe ask your Dad about it?"

"That's a good idea," James agreed. Then he gave her an inquisitive look and asked, "How did you get Morrison to tell you all of this? I mean… I know you're good, but this is… _wow_."

Vanessa smirked and gave him a wink. "I have my ways," she said, raising the mug of tea to her lips to take another sip. "And you're right; I _am_ good."

* * *

><p>Once again, James Potter was standing in her flat. This time, though, he'd at least had the decency to knock.<p>

"Mary here?" James asked, glancing around.

Lily shook her head in the negative and looked behind her at the piles of books spread out along the sofa. She'd been in the middle of studying, and although some part of her was more than a little curious as to why James was at her door, another part of her was insistent that she _needed_ to work on this. Otherwise she had no hope of making any progress on the potion in the next four weeks.

James ran a hand through his hair, and she frowned ever so slightly. He froze at her look and quickly tried to flatten the dark locks. That took Lily a bit by surprise, and she wondered if he was remembering how many times she'd told him she hated the way he messed up his hair, thinking it made him look cool.

James cleared his throat. "How's the potion going?"

Lily shrugged noncommittally and stepped away from the door. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she walked back to her books. He hadn't started yelling at her, which she supposed was a good sign. At least it wouldn't be a repeat of their last argument. She wasn't sure she could handle another emotionally draining fight.

"I thought I'd offer to help you," James replied.

Lily gave him a blank stare. "What?" she asked, bewildered.

"With the potion," James clarified. "You said you had a lot of work to do on it and not a whole lot of time. Well… two heads are better than one, right?"

Lily narrowed her eyes and said pointedly, "Potter, I was in the same class as you for five years, watching you ruin pretty much every potion you touched. You're complete rubbish at this."

James grinned. "And you weren't all that good at Transfiguration," he retorted, appearing not in the least upset by her remark. "And this potion has a lot to do with transfiguring. So maybe it requires both our talents."

Lily hesitated, torn. He had a point – Transfiguration had never been an easy class for her, but it must have been easy for him given that he had somehow mastered transforming himself into a stag before they even left Hogwarts. On the other hand, this was a potion, and the theory behind it was different from spell-based transfigurations. Would his knowledge really help?

"Why?" she asked finally. "Why do you want to help me? Last time you were here…" She trailed off and sank onto the sofa amidst the clutter of books before saying, "We didn't exactly part of amicable terms."

"And yet you're still doing this potion," James said. "Despite everything… you're still going through with it." He hesitated, then said awkwardly, "I was wrong to say… what I said… before… about you."

"No," Lily said quietly, shaking her head, "you were… Merlin, it kills me to say this, but… you were right." She paused, then amended quickly, "But only about some of it. You and Black both, you had some good points." James' brow furrowed at the mention of Sirius, and Lily realized suddenly that perhaps he didn't know that his best mate had come to visit her. But instead of commenting on that, or offering any other explanation, she added, "But letting a werewolf run around the hills near a village at the full moon is irresponsible and dangerous."

James didn't say anything.

"Besides," Lily continued, "if Remus really isn't a monster, if he's a good person, if he has a conscious… how do you think he would feel if he ended up escaping from you and biting someone?"

"He's _not_ a monster," James said vehemently.

"I know," Lily murmured in a barely audible voice.

James walked around the sofa and sat down in the chair opposite her. "So… let's talk about this potion."

"You still haven't adequately explained why you want to help me," Lily argued.

James stared at her for a long moment, then said with a hint of frustration creeping into his voice, "Because Avery is threatening to burn down Mr. Pettigrew's shop, Peter doesn't know what side he is on, Sirius can't control his temper now that his brother is a right git, and Remus is working at a bookstore with a boss who treats him like garbage. Because Remus thinks he's a monster, I went and got myself benched at Quidditch practice, and Abraxas Malfoy is trying to get Muggleborns kicked out of the Ministry. Because I can't seem to be able to fix any of those problems. But maybe I can do this."

Lily met his stare evenly and said, "Alright."

He looked startled, as though he hadn't expected her to cave quite to quickly. And it surprised her, too. But she knew exactly how he felt. Because she couldn't fix her relationship with Petunia and she couldn't save her friendship with Severus and she couldn't stop all Muggleborn prejudice. But she could do this.

James flashed her a weak smile. "I was expecting more of an argument," he said. "Usually you can't stand even being in the same room as me."

"Well, you do seem more… mature… now," Lily admitted. "Besides, you have to have changed at least a little bit if you're dating Vanessa Lovely. She's the kind of person you used to dismiss as prejudiced and dodgy without even getting to know her."

Surprise was written clearly on James' features. "What do you mean?" he asked a bit warily.

"Well, you know," Lily said with a shrug, "because she was in Slytherin."

* * *

><p>James and Sirius frequently complained about Mr. Pracket, and though Peter was less vocal than the other two, he also expressed outrage at the owner of the book shop. Lily had been furious with the man the one time she had met him, and even Dearborn had reacted angrily to the verbal abuse.<p>

So why, Remus wondered idly, did any of them think it was a good idea to repeatedly show up here and distract him so that he would get in even more trouble with his temperamental boss?

Of course, his reluctance to face this particular conversation had to do with a lot more than just a desire to avoid another confrontation with his boss.

"Hi, Lily."

The redhead smiled wanly. "Hi, Remus," she said. She had her arms wrapped around herself uneasily, and for some reason, her expression reminded Remus of James. It took him a moment to figure out why – it was exactly the expression James wore when he was attempting to apologize for something.

Remus cast his thoughts back to his years at Hogwarts and tried to remember if he'd ever heard Lily apologize. Not for the little things, like knocking over a glass of juice or bumping into someone in the halls, but the bigger issues. Like after a major argument with her friends.

He came up blank.

So maybe that was something James and Lily had in common. Neither of them were any good at apologies.

But that thought caused Remus to shake his head – could Lily really be here to apologize? And for what? She'd been right about what she'd said. He had been irresponsible and his actions could have gotten someone killed – or worse. What did she have to be sorry about when he was the one who had attacked her?

"I… uh… I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry… I don't want you to think that I think that you're a monster," Lily said, stammering at the beginning and then rushing the words together frantically towards the end.

It took Remus a moment to unravel that sentence, and then he lowered his gaze to the pile of books in his arms. "Did James put you up to this?" he asked.

Lily gave him an incredulous look, and then demanded hotly, "Have I ever done something just because Potter wants me to?"

That statement caused Remus to smile just a little bit, and Lily returned the smile with her own tentative one.

Still, even Lily's smile and pointed words did not quite assuage Remus' doubt. After all, the most recent conversation he'd had with James had ended with his friend stating unequivocally that Remus should not let Lily's words convince him that he was a monster, and now Lily was here, essentially repeating that idea.

"Actually, I did talk to Potter," Lily said after a moment. "Not about you, really, but about the Wolfsbane potion. He's helping me with that, and I…"

"Wait, you're still working on it?" Remus interrupted. She had been _incredibly_ clear that she thought the potion was a waste of time, so why would she have changed her mind?

"Yes," Lily affirmed, completely oblivious to Remus' silent confusion. "And I was talking to Potter about it. Although when I pointed out that his girlfriend used to be in Slytherin, he got a bit distracted. I didn't realize that he didn't know. I mean, I didn't know that about her – I didn't even know he was dating her – until Mary told me."

Remus wasn't sure what startled him more; that Lily was paying attention to James' love life or that James' girlfriend had been in Slytherin. But even though he registered that both of those bits of information were unusual and deserved his attention, his mind kept going back to Lily's earlier statement.

"You're working on the Wolfsbane potion," he said again.

"Yes," Lily said flatly, lips pursed. "I just told you that." She hesitated, possibly waiting for Remus to say something else, but when it became clear that he was still to shocked to think up a response, she said, "It's not like I've perfected it. I'm just working on it. And I doubt I'll make much progress in the next four weeks."

"But you're working on it," Remus said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yes," Lily said again. She licked her lips and looked around the shop, at the shelves of books and the other patrons browsing quietly. Mr. Pracket was fortunately nowhere in sight, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be coming back, and Remus knew that he should be getting back to work. He was already in enough trouble as it was, adding to it would be a bad idea.

On the other hand, it was hard to get worked up about that because Lily was working on the Wolfsbane potion. And the Lily who was looking at him now, the one with fire and stubborn determination in her eyes whenever she mentioned that potion… _that_ Lily was going to see this through until the end.

"Anyway," Lily said, "I just came by to tell you that… well, that I don't think you're a monster. And you shouldn't either."

"Right," Remus said distractedly. There was something expanding in his chest, some emotion pushing out against his ribcage. And it was such a strange emotion, one he didn't feel all that often, that it took him a moment to identify it.

It was hope.


	16. Or Maybe I Am Just Speaking For Me

Chapter Sixteen: Or Maybe I Am Just Speaking For Me

"Dad?"

Charlus Potter glanced up from the scrolls of parchment spread out on his desk and smiled warmly at his son. "James, I didn't realize you were home." He pushed his work aside and gestured for his son to enter the study.

James walked in and sat down at the chair across from his father's large and elaborate desk. He looked disturbed by something, and that worried Mr. Potter a bit. Although he could not deny the fact that he was pleased his son was starting to show an interest in the world outside of Hogwarts, as a father, he mostly just wanted James to be happy. And since their previous conversation about politics, James had grown quietly serious.

Mr. Potter reflected at the irony; now that his son was finally acting like an adult, he found himself missing James' mischievous laughter whenever he told of his latest pranks or practical jokes.

"What do you know about the Protection of Magical Heritage Act?" James asked.

Mr. Potter pursed his lips. "Where did you hear about that?" he asked, his tone sharper than he had intended.

James shrugged off the question and asked one of his own, "So you've heard of it?"

Mr. Potter nodded gravely and leaned back in his chair. "Yes," he said simply. He paused, then added with a hint of bitterness in his tone, "One of Abraxas Malfoy's most recent ideas."

"Does he have support for it?" James pressed.

Mr. Potter pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and said softly, "James, Malfoy will always have support for anything he proposes, regardless of how… absurd… the idea is." He frowned, giving his son a searching stare, and then asked again, "Where did you hear about it?"

"This girl I'm dating," James explained, "she heard about it."

Mr. Potter nodded slowly. He'd heard the whispers floating around – that his son was dating a _Daily Prophet_ reporter. The murmurs had been more surprised than upset, which he knew was an indication that the girl in question was at least a half-blood, perhaps even a pureblood. He'd seen no reason to ask James about it, assuming that his son would come to him soon enough.

After all, James had never been one to keep secrets about the girls he fancied. The name _Lily Evans_ had been common enough in the household when James was growing up. If James had moved on to someone else, that girl's name would start being tossed about constantly as well.

"This girl…" Mr. Potter started.

"Vanessa," James offered quickly.

Mr. Potter inclined his head. "Vanessa, then. What did she tell you about it?"

"Just that it was designed to keep Muggleborns out of the Ministry," James answered. "And that Malfoy is confident he can get support for it."

"He can," Mr. Potter answered, still studying James carefully. His son was a superb liar, able to keep a straight face at even the most difficult of times. But Mr. Potter had raised James, and he could still catch all the little tells that everyone else missed.

And James was clearly omitting information now.

"Well… aren't people trying to stop it?" James demanded. "Aren't _you_ trying to stop it?"

Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow. "Of course," he said. "But it isn't a simple matter of challenging Malfoy to a wizarding duel. He has support. The legislation has support. It makes things… complicated." He paused, then asked curiously, "How did this Vanessa hear of it? I can't imagine that Malfoy was willing to talk openly about it, especially not to a reporter."

James blinked, and Mr. Potter sighed, knowing the next words that came out of his son's mouth would be only partial truths. Or possibly complete lies.

"I'm not sure," James said. "She was speaking to someone we knew from Hogwarts. His mother is working with Malfoy, I think it came up because of that."

In the past, James had only ever lied to his parents for two reasons: either because he'd done something wrong and knew he'd be in trouble if he got caught or because he didn't want his parents to worry. And since he was now not only of age but also out of Hogwarts, Mr. Potter doubted very much that his reasons for neglecting to give the full truth were because he was afraid of getting in trouble.

Which left only the second option.

Mr. Potter had never been under any delusions that his son would be dragged into all the pureblood machinations and manipulations, but he had hoped that it wouldn't happen quite so quickly. He had hoped that James would have time to adjust to the world outside of Hogwarts before that world dug its claws into his back and refused to let go.

But that hope had clearly been in vain. And after years of doing whatever he could to protect his son from the other families, the tables had turned – _James_ was the one trying to protect _him_.

Mr. Potter idly tapped his fingers against his desk, turning his thoughts away from James and towards his own current problems with the Ministry. Abraxas Malfoy's act was certainly not the first bit of legislation to appall him. But it seemed to be the beginning of _something_. Malfoy and Lestrange were both capitalizing on the recent increase in anti-Muggleborn feeling, and they were far better at politicizing than anyone Mr. Potter had met in a long time.

"Dad?"

Mr. Potter looked up at James again. His son was clearly still seething, furious at the very idea of this type of discrimination.

"Well?" James demanded. "Aren't you doing anything about it? Even if it is complicated… that's not a good enough reason to do nothing."

Mr. Potter smiled grimly. "Of course. But the kind of work I do takes place very much behind the scenes. And it is slow."

"So make it fast. Bring it to everyone's attention!" James practically snarled.

Mr. Potter raised an eyebrow. He'd never heard James use that tone of voice when addressing him. But although James' fury was unusual, it was neither unreasonable or unexpected. Dorea Potter was a woman of action, never content to rely on words alone, and James had inherited that inclination from her. Neither mother nor son would ever really be comfortable with the idea that some battles had to be fought slowly, cautiously, and without much fanfare.

But though Mrs. Potter might not have liked these slower and more subtle methods, she had at least accepted their necessity. And sooner or later, James would need to accept it as well.

James continued to glare angrily, and Mr. Potter said with a heavy sigh, "You cannot storm into the atrium of the Ministry and accuse Malfoy of discrimination."

"Why not?" James asked.

"If that was enough to stop this kind of prejudice, don't you think I would have done it a long time ago?" Mr. Potter replied pointedly.

James at least had the good sense to look abashed, and he slumped backwards in the chair. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't… you know…" He trailed off awkwardly and shrugged.

Mr. Potter bit back a smirk. James really wasn't that good at apologies.

"You are your mother's son," he said finally, shaking his head with some amusement. "Always ready for action. Always ready to fight. But you have to realize, James, that we aren't at war and we can't just demand a duel to decide these issues. These battles that we are fighting… they are fought with a nod and a word in the right ear, with a handshake between friends and friends of friends."

James looked disgruntled and disappointed, but he reluctantly nodded his understanding.

* * *

><p>"You've been avoiding me," Vanessa announced without preamble, then pushed her way past him into his house.<p>

James stared at her. "Uh… come in?" he muttered.

Vanessa had never been to his home before, though he'd been to her flat more than once. She'd also never shown up unannounced or accused him of not paying enough attention to her. She wasn't the clingy sort, and seemed more than happy to have her own life separate from him.

But she was here now, and that meant that James had not been anywhere near as subtle as he had hoped.

"I haven't been avoiding you," he said weakly, offering a defense he knew neither of them quite believed. Vanessa gave him a hard stare and shook her head, and James sighed.

The reality was simply that he didn't know what to say to her. Ever since Lily's revelation that Vanessa had been in Slytherin, he'd been struggling with his own prejudices against the House. He didn't know what to think, and although some part of him was willing to admit that it was unfair to judge her negatively now when he'd liked her so much before, another part of him kept having doubts.

How had Vanessa gotten all that information out of Morrison? Had it really been just flirting and charming him that had done it?

Who had told Puddlemere United that he'd been benched? Only a few people even knew…

Was Vanessa really interested in Remus' status as a werewolf and Malfoy's plans to introduce anti-Muggleborn legislation because she wanted to stop the discrimination, or was she just using James? Was she feeding him half-truths and lies while carrying his own revelations back to her Slytherin friends?

These accusations were all unfounded, and he _knew_ that, but then again… why hadn't Vanessa ever mentioned that she was in Slytherin? She must have known Lucius Malfoy and the others involved, yet the first time she had seen them in Knockturn Alley she had acted as though she didn't know who they were.

And how had it never occurred to him that she was probably in Slytherin? She was cunning, manipulative, ambitious… all the classic traits the Sorting Hat looked for in a Slytherin. For Merlin's sake, her entire _job_ was based on tricking people into revealing information they wouldn't have given willingly, and she was _good_ at it.

Vanessa was still staring at James, waiting for more of an answer. Or perhaps waiting for an answer that she would actually believe.

"I've been busy," James said finally. "And it's only been a few days."

"Yes, but in those few days you were going to talk to your father and then we were going to discuss more about this legislation," Vanessa challenged. "But not only have you not come to see me, you haven't returned my letter. I _know_ my owl reached you, James. So tell me what is going on."

"Why do you care?" James demanded. "Are you turning into _that_ kind of girlfriend?"

Vanessa's lips pressed into a flat line and she said in a cold voice, "Fine. Clearly you aren't ready to tell me what is really going on, so I have no reason to stay. But I thought you should know that Abraxas Malfoy plans to introduce his legislation _tomorrow_."

"How do you know that?" James demanded, feeling angrier than he had thought possible. Malfoy was moving quickly on this, and it seemed like there was little James could do to stop it. Even if he had full faith in his father's determination to stall this Act, James didn't like being sidelined, forced to watch someone else fight the battles he believed in.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "I have my contacts," she said calmly.

"Oh, yes," James drawled sarcastically, "all your Slytherin buddies."

Vanessa bristled. "What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in Slytherin?" James asked hotly.

For a moment, Vanessa merely stared at him. Then she replied, "I didn't think it mattered to you. It's not like you ever asked what House I was in. It's not like we ever even talked about Hogwarts."

James couldn't argue with that, but still…

He shook his head and tried to arrange his thoughts into something organized and coherent. "Did you really not know Snape and Lestrange?" he asked after a moment.

Vanessa at least didn't pretend not to understand what he was asking. Hands on her hips, she retorted, "Snape was in your year, James. He was three years younger than me. So tell me, can you name _every_ Gryffindor who was three years younger than you? Can you name _any_ Gryffindor in that year?"

James couldn't.

"Rabastan Lestrange was four years older than me, so again I ask you, can you name any of the Gryffindors who were four years ahead of you? Particularly if they _weren't_ prefects or Heads?" Vanessa continued. "Lucius Malfoy was a prefect and only a year older than me, so _him_ I knew."

James nodded slowly, accepting that, but asked anyway, "And your family isn't friends with any of them?"

That caused Vanessa to laugh bitterly. "My family has money, James, but not pure blood. My paternal grandmother and maternal grandfather were both Muggleborns. How much time do you think a Malfoy or a Lestrange would waste on me?" She shook her head in disgust and turned away from him. "I can't believe you're actually accusing me of lying to you about this."

"A whole bunch of Slytherins are planning…" James started, but Vanessa cut him off angrily.

"A whole bunch of pureblood fanatics are planning something," she spat. "Not everybody in Slytherin is like that."

James snorted. "Maybe not, but I don't recall any Slytherins standing up against the ones who were like that in school."

"You can't judge everyone based on what they were like in school," Vanessa retorted. "Or are you telling me that you never did anything you aren't proud of? Are you telling me that you haven't changed, haven't grown up? Are you the same person you were when you were eleven?"

Again, James didn't answer.

Vanessa gave him one final look and then said viciously, "If you can't see that assuming all Slytherins are evil is just as prejudiced as assuming all Muggleborns are filth, you really aren't the boy I thought you were." And she spun on her heel and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

><p>"You do realize that you are basically just sabotaging yourself at this point," Emma remarked as she looked up from her own potion and watched Lily flip intently through yet another textbook.<p>

Lily shot Emma a quick look before turning her attention back to the text. "It was the right thing to do," she said stubbornly.

Emma shrugged. "I'm not saying that it isn't," she answered calmly, refusing to be drawn into an argument. "You certainly seem happier now than you did at any point in the last few weeks. If this is what you feel strongly about, this is what you should do." She looked down at her own potion before finishing, "I'm just saying that you don't have any chance of moving on to the next stage."

Lily hesitated, one hand hovering just above the pages of her text, the other resting on the desk. It took her a moment to collect herself, and then she said softly, "I know."

* * *

><p>James flipped through the book carelessly, paying little attention to the words scrawled across the pages. More books littered the table, some open to specific pages, others waiting to be read. There were a few scrolls of parchment among the books, most covered in what appeared to be ancient runes.<p>

None of this held James' attention.

"You know," a voice said pointedly, "it was your idea to help. If this is boring you, you don't need to be here."

James looked up sharply and found Lily staring at him with an annoyed expression. He was instantly defensive, opening his mouth to snap some prickly reply, but then paused. She was right, of course – it had been his idea to help. And he hadn't done much of anything over the past hour besides stare blankly at the same book and stew over his argument with Vanessa.

He pushed the book away and said a bit gruffly, "Sorry. Just preoccupied with other things."

Lily frowned. "If you don't want to help…" she started.

"I do," James snapped irritably. "I just…" He waved his hand towards all the books and said, "It's all… reading. I thought we'd be doing… more."

"I'm sorry this isn't glamorous enough for you," came Lily's immediate and sarcastic response. "But what exactly did you think it would be like? That you would show up and all of a sudden everything would make sense? This requires _research_."

James nodded. "I guess I'm just not cut out for it," he said sourly. The conversation with his father had made it clear that he wasn't cut out for politics, either. He wasn't cut out for anything that didn't have action and excitement, wasn't able to contain himself to subtle manipulation and waiting.

Maybe he really should just focus on Quidditch.

Lily continued to frown at him for a moment, then shrugged, apparently deciding that it wasn't worth it to keep up the conversation. She turned her attention back to her notes and chewed on the end of her quill as she read over something she had written, then scratched it out and scribbled down something else instead.

"How do you have the patience for this?" James asked.

Lily glanced up briefly, then said quietly, "Not everyone is as inherently good at magic as you are."

"What does _that_ mean?" James demanded.

Lily didn't meet his gaze as she answered, "I don't think I ever saw you study for anything at Hogwarts, and the only class you took that you weren't practically perfect in was Potions."

"I was pretty rubbish at Divination," James replied thoughtfully.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Divination itself is rubbish," she said pointedly. "It doesn't count as a true class." She idly tapped her quill against the parchment and continued, "You never studied for Transfiguration or Defense Against the Dark Arts. Or Charms, Astronomy, Arithmancy…"

"So?"

Lily set her quill down on the table and looked up at him again. She held his gaze steadily as she said, "Not everyone can do that, Potter. Some of us actually have to work to succeed at things. You take it for granted that everything should be easy because it is easy – for _you_. The rest of us have long since learned that we actually have to put in the time and effort to get the results we want. I don't like doing this research. I'd much rather be at a cauldron throwing things together to see what happens. But I have the patience for this step because I've learned that it is actually necessary."

"I have to work at things, too," James protested.

"Not like the rest of us," Lily murmured, picking up her quill and once more turning her gaze to her notes. "You don't have to be here, Potter. If you don't have the patience for it, then don't bother."

"I do want to bother," James said angrily, frustrated at how easily she was dismissing him. It was true that he was naturally gifted at many things. But did she really think that he'd never struggled? That he'd never had to put in time and effort to achieve something that really mattered to him?

Did she think he just woke up one morning able to turn himself into a stag?

"Then keep reading," Lily replied, not glancing up from her notes.

James grumbled under his breath and picked up the book again. But the ideas were too complex and the writing too dry, and it took only a moment for his thoughts to wander away from the theories of lycanthropy and land instead on Vanessa.

Why hadn't she told him that she was in Slytherin? It was true that he had never asked – it had never even occurred to him to ask. But how could she think it didn't matter? In light of everything that was happening, how could she have never mentioned it?

"_What_?"

James started, surprised at Lily's sudden question. He must have been brooding over Vanessa for a while, he realized, because Lily had moved on to a new book. She'd also noticed that he wasn't doing any work, and she was staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"Uh…"

She sighed. "What's wrong?" she asked finally. "What has you so preoccupied?"

He was surprised that she was initiating this conversation at all. She didn't often given the impression that she cared about his personal life, and their previous exchange had emphasized that she wanted this relationship to be strictly professional. They were here to work on the Wolfsbane potion, and that was all.

But she had asked the question, and she did seem genuinely curious, so he answered with a question of his own.

"Why did you tell me that Vanessa was in Slytherin?"

She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and said, "It honestly didn't occur to me that you might not already know."

"Well, I didn't," James said sourly.

"What does it matter?" Lily asked.

"She was in Slytherin!"

Lily gave James a disparaging look and replied, "Yes, she was. And yet you liked her anyway." She leaned back in her chair and said, "She was _always_ in Slytherin, Potter. So what has actually changed? _She_ hasn't changed. _You_ haven't changed. The only thing that _has_ changed is that now you know about it."

"I doubt a Slytherin-Gryffindor romance would work out particularly well," James muttered.

Lily flinched ever so slightly, and James immediately felt like kicking himself. He hadn't meant to bring up Vanessa in the first place, and he certainly hadn't meant to say anything that could potentially lead to the topic of Snape.

Lily cleared her throat. "What do you have against Slytherins?" she asked.

"They're bullies," James said flatly, thinking of Abraxas Malfoy.

Lily laughed coldly. "So were you." James opened his mouth to protest, but Lily said quickly, "Fifth year. You hung Severus upside-down by his ankles, mocked him, taunted him, and when I asked you what he had done to deserve that…" Her voice grew hard and bitter, "You said it was because he _existed_."

James flushed. "I grew up," he defended himself.

Lily pursed her lips. "I thought you did," she said. "But if you're willing to break up with Vanessa Lovely based solely on the fact that she's in Slytherin, then you didn't grow up much at all." She hesitated, then added in a soft and sad tone, "Severus changed. And I did, too. Some of that was just part of growing up, and some of it was because he was in Slytherin and his friends pulled him down a path I couldn't accept. But nothing has really changed with you and Vanessa. So are you going to ruin that relationship just because you're prejudiced?"

James stared at her for a long moment, somewhat amazed by the fact that _Lily Evans_ was giving him relationship advice.

Then he said, "Abraxas Malfoy is going to introduce legislation to keep Muggleborns out of the Ministry. He's going to do it omorrow."

Lily gaped at him. "_What_?"

"Malfoy has support and help. The Lestranges, Averys, Morrisons… all Slytherins. Vanessa and I were… investigating… this. She got all this information for me, kept saying that she was charming it out of people. Out of prominent Slytherin families – families who are also trying to manipulate Sirius and I. And she never once mentioned that she was in Slytherin, too."

"Alright," Lily said after a pause, relenting slightly, "I can see why that might seem suspicious." She chewed her lip. "But do you really think… I mean… you _know_ Vanessa. You've been dating her for a while now, right? A few weeks, at least. Do you really think she's the kind of person…"

"Did you think Snape was the kind of person who would call you a Mudblood?" James interrupted pointedly. He knew it was a low blow, but now that they had broached the topic of that ruined friendship, he saw no reason to keep avoiding it.

Again, Lily flinched. Then she admitted, "I should have. I wasn't being honest with myself, I didn't let myself see it. I didn't want to see it. But if I hadn't been forcing myself to keep my eyes closed, I would have seen that Severus and I… our friendship was over long before that day." She hesitated, then added hastily and with a glare, "But that doesn't excuse what you did."

James didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. It was the first time he and Lily had been able to talk about Snape without yelling at each other, and it was the first time she'd confessed – at least to him – that her friendship with Snape had started to dissolve before then and what had happened between the two of them wasn't entirely James' fault.

Lily cleared her throat and ended the awkward silence. "I didn't want to see the truth, so I closed my eyes. Don't close yours. Look at the entire situation with open eyes and an open mind and tell me whether or not you think Vanessa is the kind of person who would betray you like that."

James sighed. When Lily put it like that, there was really only one answer.

"So… Malfoy wants Muggleborns out of the Ministry?" Lily prompted, changing the conversation to James' prior announcement.

James' nodded glumly.

"But Muggleborns have done so much for the Ministry, it would be detrimental to exclude them," Lily insisted.

James froze, mouth falling open. "Evans!" he exclaimed suddenly, jumping to his feet. "You're brilliant!"

"Uh… thanks?"

"I have to go, I'm sorry," he said, the words rushing from his lips as he started towards the door. "But I'll come over to work tomorrow, and I'll focus. I promise. I just need to do something. Now, before it is too late."

And without any more explanation, he practically ran from her flat.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry. I know I was a complete git – although I still think it is weird that you never mentioned you were in Slytherin. But I shouldn't have said what I said and I didn't mean it, and I have a plan."<p>

Vanessa didn't step aside to allow James entrance to her flat, but she didn't slam the door in his face, either, so he took that as a good sign.

"You can charm information out of anyone, right?" he continued hastily. "Can you also charm people into doing things for you? I mean… can you get the _Daily Prophet_ editors to let you run a story tomorrow morning? With your charms and my money, can we do that?"

Vanessa's expression was torn between curiosity and anger. She was clearly intrigued by the fact that James had a plan of some sort, but also wasn't willing to let go of her feelings about their argument. She stood there, struggling with the decision, before finally nodding once.

"I probably could," she said. "Why?"

"I have an idea and I need your help," James replied.

She let out a slow exhale. "You can't just come here and say that you're sorry and expect everything to be alright between us."

"It worked before," James said hopefully.

Vanessa scoffed. "Last time you were an idiot, but at least you hadn't accused me of trying to further a pureblood agenda."

James hesitated. He had a feeling the smart thing to do would be to apologize again – and again and again, until she forgave him.

But it wouldn't be the honest thing to do.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in Slytherin?" he said. "And don't say it is because you didn't think it mattered. You've heard me say negative things about Slytherins in the past, and you always just agreed with me. Why didn't you tell me then that you were in Slytherin? Why didn't you defend your House?"

"Why bother?" Vanessa said, shaking her head. "You clearly have a set idea of what Slytherins are like, I doubt I could have changed that."

"You could have," James said. "You _did_." He looked down at the ground for a moment, then said, "Look, I'm not saying that my prejudice against Slytherins is acceptable. But there were times that your House affiliation could have – maybe even should have – come up, and you made the choice not to say anything about it. Why?"

Vanessa ran a hand through her hair and gave James a long, contemplative look. Then she said, "Do you really not know the answer to that?"

"If I knew," James snapped, "would I be _asking_?"

"It's _habit_, James," Vanessa said, her tone acidic. "It's habit because of people like _you_. Do you think any _good_ Gryffindor would talk to me if they knew what House I was in? Do you think any Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be inclined to trust me? Do you have any idea how much harder my job would be if people knew I was in Slytherin?"

"So you never tell _anyone_ your House?" James asked incredulously.

"You hate all Slytherins because of a few bad ones," Vanessa said coolly. "And yes, there are more pureblood fanatics in Slytherin than anywhere else, but the world isn't so easily divided into good and bad. And Gryffidnor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff have had their share of prejudiced witches and wizards." Her eyes ran up and down the length of James' body before she added viciously, "You're proof of that."

"Several pureblood families seem to have plans for me – and they've _already_ gotten to one of my friends," James retorted defensively. "We know that they are going after Sirius, too. Maybe I overreacted to finding out that you were in Slytherin. But you lied to me. Maybe it was just a lie of omission, but it was still a lie. So can you blame me for being paranoid about your intentions when we _know_ there several people already out to get me?" He shoved his hands into his pockets and said, "I might be an idiot on occasion, and I might have been a git, but at least I was honest with you."

"Honest?" Vanessa argued. "You were avoiding me!"

"Not because I was planning on lying to you!" James hissed. "I was avoiding you because I was trying to figure out what I thought about this little revelation. I wanted to know how I felt about it _before_ I confronted you. And for the record, if you had just told me that you were in Slytherin in the first place, if I'd found out from _you_ and not _someone else_, then we probably wouldn't be having this conversation at all, because I would still have trusted you enough not to care about it."

"And how _do_ you feel about it now?"

James threw his hands up in the air in frustration and replied honestly, "I don't know." He stopped, took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. In a quieter tone, he said, "I really like you. That hasn't changed."

Vanessa studied him intently, then said, "Fine. What's your plan? Why do you need an article in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow?"

Her tone made it clear that she still wasn't willing to just ignore the fight, but she would at least focus on this more pressing concern. James supposed he couldn't really blame her for that – he wasn't sure he could so easily move past their argument, either.

They would just have to take things one step at a time.


	17. Cause When I Look Around

Chapter Seventeen: 'Cause When I Look Around

Lily was convinced that it was going to be a good day.

She'd been awake most of the previous night, kept up by her own need to keep researching and – though she hated to admit it – by her curiosity about James' actions. He'd clearly come to some great conclusion about something, and she wanted to know what it was.

The answer had come early the next morning when Mary, after opening the _Daily Prophet_ and glancing at the front page, choked on her tea.

There had been two articles on the front page. The first was a description of Abraxas Malfoy's legislation; of course, the article had said nothing about the fact that it was intended to keep Muggleborns out of the Ministry. It was clearly a propaganda piece, and a well-written one at that. It praised wizarding society and extolled the virtue of protecting that society from dilution. Culture, it claimed, was the very foundation upon which civilization rested, and without it, the wizarding world would descend into chaos.

It had been so convincingly written, in fact, that if Lily hadn't understood exactly what the Magical Heritage Protection Act really was, she might have been swayed by the article's rhetoric.

But the second article…

The second article had been co-written by James Potter and Vanessa Lovely. It was short, and had obviously been hastily thrown together at the last minute.

And it had been brilliant.

_Contributions of Muggles and Muggleborns to Wizarding Society._

Lily had laughed when she read the headline. Mary had been shaking her head in wonder, almost unable to believe what she was seeing, and Lily felt the same. Could James Potter – the same arrogant bully who had targeted Slytherins for fun, who had always gotten everything he wanted without any understanding of how privileged he was, who didn't ever seem to know when a joke turned into actual harm – have really managed _this_?

Lily had taken the _Daily Prophet_ with her to class and shown it to Emma and Benjy Fenwick. They had laughed.

Eliza Greengrass had been seething.

The research from the previous night had paid off as well. She tossed a pinch of powdered unicorn horn into the potion and it had bubbled and boiled and turned white. Emma hadn't understood why Lily nearly started dancing for joy, but Damocles Belby had said in his writings on Wolfsbane potion that the adverse effects of the aconite needed to be countered by the addition of a purification agent in the intermediate steps, and white was the color of purity, and this was actually starting to _work_.

Healer Lanwick had stared down at Lily's potion with a stern expression and made no comment on the apparent success. But Lily hadn't minded. She knew she was still a long way from having a working potion, but this was something, and she was far too excited about the results to let the Healer ruin her good mood.

So Lily left the class elated by her own achievement and by the brilliance of James' article, convinced that it was going to continue to be a good day.

She met Caradoc for a date at a restaurant in Muggle London and practically shoved the newspaper at him. "Did you see this?" she asked excitedly, slipping into the seat across from him at the table.

Caradoc took the article from her with a smile and said, "I did. Potter outdid himself on this."

"He only just came up with the idea last night," Lily said, shaking her head in amazement. "I don't know how he managed to convince the _Daily Prophet_ to include the article. And I bet the Malfoys aren't pleased."

Caradoc nodded and took a sip of his water. "With Vanessa Lovely's charms and Potter's money and prestige, I imagine it wasn't actually all that hard to do this. Never underestimate just what money can buy. Besides, the _Daily Prophet_ exists to sell itself, and if it can help create and maintain conflict - conflict it can later report on - it will do it."

Lily snatched the article back from him and, lowering her voice to make sure the Muggles at the surrounding tables didn't hear, said, "A front page article about the major contributions of Muggles and Muggleborns… it's just… _genius_." Her eyes scanned the short article, picking up one particular paragraph. "In fact," she read aloud, grinning broadly, "the Wizengamot itself is styled after the Muggle legal system and the Muggle Parliament. Though we pride ourselves on our wizarding laws, many of our oldest regulations are actually replicas of Muggle law. We take for granted that an accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case or that underage witches and wizards may use magic to protect themselves or others, yet we all too often do not realize that these laws are based on similar Muggle decrees that govern the ideas of due process in the legal system and emphasize the primary importance of self-defense and defense of family."

Lily folded the newspaper carefully and set it by her plate. She had no doubt that many members of the older pureblood families were currently seething. And it would certainly cause some trouble for Malfoy's plans.

That thought made her practically giddy.

"I actually made progress on my potion, too," she said. "I still have a long way to go, but this… it was a step _forward_, and I just…"

She trailed off, frowning slightly as she realized that, though Caradoc was smiling, there was something strained in his eyes. He wasn't quite meeting her gaze, but had instead focused his attention on the still folded newspaper, and for a moment, she wondered if he was unhappy about James' article.

But no, that didn't make sense. Caradoc wouldn't have supported Malfoy in this, and he must have recognized what James was trying to do.

She cleared her throat and forced her mind back to the potion. "Powdered unicorn horn. I think I may have stabilized some of the more volatile effects of the aconite."

"That's great, Lily," Caradoc said, lifting his gaze to meet hers. He sounded genuinely happy for her, but he still seemed awkward.

Lily chewed her lip. "Is everything alright?" she asked, realizing belatedly that Caradoc was the one who had asked to meet her this evening and maybe he had done that because he needed to talk to her. "Is something wrong?"

"What?" Caradoc said. "No. No, everything's fine." He started playing with the edge of the table cloth. "Everything's fine," he said again.

"Why did you want to meet?" Lily asked.

Caradoc sighed. "No reason," he said. "I just… wanted to see you. That's all."

But it wasn't all. There was still something bothering him, and as Lily stared blankly at Caradoc's carefully neutral expression, she felt dawning realization followed by an immediate sinking sensation.

"You were going to break up with me," she said. Caradoc quickly averted his gaze, and Lily continued, "But now you don't want to because you think it will make you a complete prick to call things off when I'm so happy about everything. To ruin my mood when I came here to celebrate."

Caradoc looked as though he wanted to protest but knew it was already a lost cause. He sighed, slowly lifting his gaze to hers. "Yes," he said. "I… well…"

"Why?" Lily asked in a strangled tone of voice. She hadn't dated much, and she didn't have a lot of experience with break ups, but she did know that there was always a reason things ended. She had though that Caradoc liked her – she certainly liked him. What had changed?

It was abundantly clear that Caradoc didn't want to be having this conversation, but he was far too decent to simply walk away now. He leaned forward, taking Lily's hands in his own, and said, "I like you. I really do. I just think…"

"You think what?" Lily asked sharply, pulling her hands away from. "What is it?" She didn't want to make a scene, didn't want to start yelling at him or crying or anything else she had witnessed the girls at Hogwarts doing in similar situations, but he was breaking up with her and she had no idea why.

"You don't get passionate about us," Caradoc answered.

Lily blinked. "Huh?" _That_ didn't make any sense. She enjoyed spending time with Caradoc, and she knew that he liked spending time with her. It was easy – comfortable.

"You are passionate about so much," Caradoc explained quietly. "Unfair treatment of Muggleborns and other forms of discrimination. Potions – and the Wolfsbane potion in particular. Sometimes you're furious, sometimes you're ecstatic, but you're always… you always feel _something_, and you feel it strongly."

"I really like you," Lily protested. "I feel that strongly."

"Do you?" Caradoc asked with a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Why do you like me? Why do you like spending time with me?"

Lily opened her mouth to answer, but then paused, because the two words that came to mind were the ones she had thought just moments ago: easy and comfortable. But then she shook her head, annoyed. What was wrong with an easy relationship? Why should it need to be anything different?

Caradoc was smiling a bit sadly, and he said, "If you were any other girl, it wouldn't bother me as much. If you were any other girl, I'd say that our dates were normal. But you're _not_ any other girl, Lily. You're _you_. And you laugh too loudly and too much, and you get worked up over the littlest things, and you always speak your mind and never apologize, and you're just… your personality is so much bigger than…" He stopped, trailing off with a sigh. "On our dates, you talk for hours about pureblood prejudice or how witches and wizards should have to learn more about the Muggle world or that our entire legal system should be redone…"

"You said you didn't mind that!" Lily interjected.

"I don't," Caradoc replied quickly, firmly. "I like listening to you. I like hearing your ideas, I like considering your point of view. I like how passionate you get about the things you believe in… I just wish you got that passionate about me. About us. But you don't. When we talk about us... you act like any other girl. Any normal girl. And not like _you_."

Lily nodded, accepting that in silence. It was true, she had to admit. Caradoc didn't make her heart race and he didn't make her blood boil. Nothing he said ever got under her skin, nothing he said left much of an impact. She liked him, but… James had called Caradoc boring when he first found out about the relationship. And Lily had bristled defensively at the time, but had he been right?

"I deserve someone who feels that strongly about me," Caradoc murmured. "And you deserve to be with someone you can feel that strongly about."

Lily felt the familiar burn of tears in her eyes and tried to force a smile that she didn't really feel. Caradoc was right, of course, but that didn't make it any easier to hear his words.

She had been _so_ convinced that it was going to be a good day.

* * *

><p>Despite her new-found appreciation for James' brilliance, Lily still found working with him to be… <em>challenging<em>.

"So… why can't you just add the wormwood essence?"

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose and said in a tone of forced calm, "I told you, Potter; if you add wormwood to any potion containing vervain, it will explode. The two ingredients aren't compatible."

"Oh." James scratched at his nose as he contemplated her answer, and a bit of ink from his fingers rubbed off onto his face. Lily stifled a laugh, and when he looked up at her questioningly, she just smiled.

"Why does it need vermin?" James asked.

"Vervain," Lily corrected automatically, rolling her eyes. Honestly, how James had passed the first five years of potions was beyond her.

"Right, whatever," James said dismissively. "Why can't you just get rid of the verver and use the wormwood essence?"

"_Vervain_." Lily pursed her lips. "Why are you so set on using wormwood?" she asked curiously.

James pointed to the book he was reading. "It says here it was used in the Middle Ages to treat werewolf bites."

"Yes," Lily said, frowning. "I read that. I also read that it was unsuccessful."

"Oh," James looked down at the book, scanning the page for a moment, then said, "Huh. So it does. I didn't get that far."

"You have to read the _whole_ section, Potter," Lily replied somewhat coolly.

James didn't seem to care about her admonishment, though. He pushed the book away and asked, "So what exactly is verval?"

"Vervain," Lily corrected him once more. "It's a flowering plant. It has medicinal properties." She looked down at the book she was reading, returning her attention to the words on the page, as she added casually, "It is generally used to treat bites from rabid animals."

"And you think werewolves are rabid?" James demanded skeptically.

Lily let out a breath and said, "I think the connection is close enough. Rabid animals go crazy and bite people. A werewolf loses his mind at the full moon and bites people. There is a link. The theory is sound."

James accepted this in silence and Lily, assuming this was the end of the conversation, let out a sigh of relief and picked up her quill. She started jotting down some notes about the properties of belladonna and goosegrass. It didn't seem like either of them would work in the potion, but she didn't want to rule them out quite yet.

"I've never even heard of vervain."

Lily looked up once more and said irritably, "We didn't use it much at Hogwarts because it is so volatile. I guess Slughorn didn't want us to cause too many explosions. Now would you _stop_ spending so much time on that one flower?"

James raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, ma'am," he said, giving her a mock salute.

"Don't call me ma'am," Lily retorted, feeling frustrated. How was she supposed to get anything done with James distracting her all the time? And why in Merlin's name had she thought it would be a good idea to work with him on this potion?

"Whatever you say, darling," James replied.

Lily stared at him. "What's gotten into you?" she practically hissed. "Yesterday you were actually acting _mature_."

James gave her a hurt look. "You don't like being called darling?" he asked.

"Forget it," Lily snapped. "Just… just forget it. And get back to reading. _Silently_."

James at least did as she asked and returned to the book he was perusing. But though she turned back to her own notes, she was fuming too much to concentrate. The James she had talked to yesterday had annoyed her because of his Slytherin prejudice, but he had at least been mature enough to have an actual conversation with her. The boy sitting across from her, though…

He reminded her unpleasantly of the James from Hogwarts.

At least he hadn't asked her out. She supposed she had Vanessa Lovely to thank for that.

She sighed. Why _had_ she agreed to work with James? Why had she overlooked the fact that she'd detested him for seven years and prior to these little research sessions her main interaction with him this summer had been him storming into her flat and yelling at her in the middle of the night?

Had she really been that desperate to succeed at Wolfsbane?

But maybe the answer to that was all too obvious, because James Potter was sitting across from her at the kitchen table of her small flat – and she'd invited him in.

"What about chizpurfle fang?" James suggested after a few minutes of silence.

"Chizpurfle? Now you're just making things up," Lily accused.

"I am not!" James protested, grinning widely. "And it looks like there is something you don't know about potions after all, Evans."

"There are plenty of things I don't know about potions," Lily snapped. "I'm not arrogant enough to pretend I know everything about _any_ subject." James raised his eyebrows at her, and she said huffily, "Just tell me what it says about chiz-whatever fang."

"Chizpurfle fang," James said, enunciating the words carefully, greatly enjoying having information that Lily wanted. He looked down at the book and read, "It's used in the Wiggenweld potion."

"The Wiggenweld potion?" Lily repeated incredulously. James had to be making this up. There was just no way that that was a real potion.

James nodded. "Used to wake people from a deep sleep."

"A deep sleep…" Lily said thoughtfully. "You mean like the Draught of Living Death?"

James nodded. "Mm…" He continued scanning the page for a moment, then said, "Have you heard the story of Leticia Somnolens and the princesses Selene?"

"Uh… no."

"Leticia Somnolens was a vain and spiteful witch who hated Selene. Selene was the daughter of King Daedalus and Queen Orchid, and Leticia decided to kill Selene by giving her a spindle dipped in the Draught of Living Death," James explained, glancing down at the book to check his facts as he recited the story. "Selene pricked her finger on the spindle and fell into a deep sleep. She didn't wake up until decades later when a prince covered his lips in the Wiggenweld potion and then kissed her."

"Wait, wait, wait," Lily interrupted, surprised. "Sleeping Beauty actually _happened_?"

"What's Sleeping Beauty?" James asked.

Lily sighed. "Never mind," she said dismissively, all the while making a mental note to ask Alice if any of the other Muggle fairy tales had also really happened. "What does it say about the properties of this… whatever that type of fang was."

"Chizpurfle fang," James supplied. "Uh… what kind of properties do you want to know about?"

"Is it volatile? What form does it come in – powdered or chopped? Does it cause any side effects? Is it known to react with any other ingredients?"

"Um… it's not volatile… it is generally used as a powder… oh, it looks like it makes people hyperactive… well, that makes sense, I guess, given that it is used to wake people up…"

"I'm not sure we want a lot of hyperactive werewolves running around," Lily said pointedly. She reached over and pulled the book away from James, glancing down at the entry. "Why did you think this was a good ingredient to add?"

"Oh, I just liked the name," James replied casually.

"You liked the name?" Lily repeated through clenched teeth. "You picked this because you liked the _name_? Potter, you can't just pick things and hope they'll work."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a waste of time!"

"It's always worked for me," James replied, and suddenly Lily wanted to slap him. She wanted to wipe that look off his face – the one that said, quite clearly, that everything _always_ worked out well for him. She wanted to yell at him, wanted to tell him that things _shouldn't_ always work out for him and they certainly _didn't_ always work out for everyone else and could he just _grow up_?

"Oh, get over yourself," Lily snapped. "You aren't always going to get things right on your first try."

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" James asked, sounding amused. At Hogwarts he had seemed to take great pleasure in riling her up, and now he had reverted back to that. Or maybe he had never left that particular phase, and she just hadn't noticed it in a while.

"Shut up, Potter," she said.

"What, did you have a bad date with Dearborn this evening or something?" James asked. "You seemed in a cheerful enough mood this morning when you sent me that owl about coming over to work on the potion…"

"_Shut up_, Potter!" Lily spat again, flushing in fury.

James immediately snapped his mouth shut and just stared at her, waiting for her to say or do something. She shoved her chair back and rose to her feet, moving away from him. He stayed seated as she walked out of the kitchen, and for that, at least, she was grateful. She really didn't want to talk to him right now.

It wasn't fair. He had his Quidditch team and his intelligence and good looks and Vanessa Lovely, and what had he done to deserve any of it?

Her gaze fell on the _Daily Prophet_. She glared at it for a long moment, feeling her anger grow. He had so much _potential_. He'd written an article about the accomplishments of Muggles and Muggleborns and gotten it published in the newspaper next to the article about Malfoy's new legislation. He'd picked an issue he believed in – or, at least, she assumed he believed in the rights of Muggleborns because why else would he have done this? – and fought for it in an ingenious manner. He'd likely angered several prominent and important pureblood families doing it, setting himself up for a bitter fight against very powerful opponents, but even the threat of that imminent conflict hadn't deterred him from doing what he believed in.

He had so much potential.

And he was just sitting in her kitchen, wasting her time.

* * *

><p>"You're Vanessa Lovely."<p>

The reporter glanced up at the young man who approached her. He had a quiet seriousness about him, and his eyes were haunted. There was worry in his gaze – and suspicion.

She'd seen his picture before. She knew who he was.

"You're Remus Lupin," she said.

"I hear you and James had an argument about you being in Slytherin," Lupin said.

Vanessa nodded slowly, a little skeptical of his reasons for being here. "Come to tell me James isn't really prejudiced and I interpreted everything he said all wrong?" she asked sarcastically.

But Lupin surprised her. "Oh, James is prejudiced against Slytherins," he said readily. He pulled out the chair opposite her desk and sat down, glancing about the office as he did so.

It was empty. She wasn't senior enough at the Daily Prophet to get her own space, but the two people who shared her office – both wizards, both Quidditch reporters – were out on assignment.

The fact that they were alone seemed to embolden Lupin, because he said, "You know what I am."

Vanessa shrugged. "Pretty much anyone could figure out what you were if they decided to look," she replied calmly.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Lupin asked.

Vanessa's lips flattened into a thin line. "Are you going to tell anyone I'm a Slytherin?" she retorted.

Lupin furrowed his brow and said, "I imagine pretty much anyone could figure out what you were if they decided to look."

Vanessa smiled at that. "Touché."

"I don't remember you from Hogwarts," Lupin said thoughtfully.

Vanessa almost laughed. This seemed to be a recurring theme – James and his friends were all operating under the belief that everyone at Hogwarts knew everyone else there. Did they forget that there were several hundred people at the school?

"Did you pay much attention to Slytherins who were a few years older than you?" she asked.

"No," Lupin admitted. He was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. He traced the wood grain of her desk idly with one finger, and she wondered if he was working up the courage to say something to her. Or if he was just trying to figure out _what_ he wanted to say.

She still had no idea why he was here.

"James is a good person," Lupin said finally.

Vanessa didn't reply right away. Then she said, "I suppose it depends on how you define _good_. I know he's a good Gryffindor."

"He's a good _person_," Lupin replied, stressing the last word. "I know he has flaws, but who doesn't?"

"Most people's flaws don't cause them to condemn an entire House as evil," Vanessa snapped in reply. But then she stopped and reconsidered this, because if it was true that most people didn't view all Slytherins as evil – or at least corrupt and untrustworthy – then she wouldn't have spent the last few years carefully not mentioning her House affiliation to anyone.

But James, at least, should have been different.

Lupin hesitated, then said, "You should have told him, though."

Vanessa jerked her head up and glowered at him. "So it's all my fault?" she asked caustically. It didn't surprise her that James' friends would leap to his defense because that was, after all, what friends did. But it did annoy her.

"No," Lupin backtracked. "I'm not saying he's right or it isn't his fault, I'm just saying… you should have told him yourself. He shouldn't have had to hear it from Lily."

"Lily Evans?" Vanessa asked curiously, a bit surprised. Lupin nodded, and she tucked that bit of information away for future reflection. She hadn't realized that Evans and James were friendly enough to be discussing James' romantic life. Hadn't James told her initially that Evans hated him?

Of course, the fact that Evans had been the one to tell James was entirely beside the point, even if it was interesting.

She leaned forward and asked seriously, "If I was in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, would you still be saying the same thing? That I should have told James myself? That he shouldn't have had to find out about my House from someone else? As though it was some disgraceful secret?"

"I… well… no…" Lupin said slowly.

"You say it like it is a bad thing, something to be ashamed of," Vanessa continued. "But I'm not ashamed to have been in Slytherin."

"And yet you hide it," Lupin pointed out.

Vanessa laughed lightly. "I _am_ a Slytherin," she replied pointedly. "I'm ambitious enough to want to get ahead at my job even if it requires some sacrifice, and cunning enough to know what I need to do to win people's trust."

She didn't consider it at all contradictory to be both proud of her House and willing to hide it if necessary. It had taken her a long time to realize that she was a Slytherin at heart, but once it became clear to her that she did have all the traits the Sorting Hat looked for in Slytherins, she'd clung to that realization with delight. This was _her_ House and she belonged.

And there wasn't anything wrong with that pride, either. It wasn't as though anyone could accuse her of being prejudiced against Muggleborns when she had just gone out of her way to thwart Abraxas Malfoy's plans – and had attached her name to the article, practically guaranteeing that the Malfoy family would come after her in retaliation.

Well, let them. She knew about a few of _their_ skeletons, too.

"James is… it's hard for him right now," Lupin said. "There's a lot of pressure on him, and he doesn't know who to trust. It feels like you lied to him – and maybe you're right and this shouldn't be a big deal, but it _is_. Because the people coming after him right now… they're all Slytherins. Don't you get that?"

Vanessa sighed. "I do get it," she admitted slowly. "But I'm not the villain in this, and I refuse to play that role just because I was in Slytherin."

* * *

><p>"Have you ever considered selling the shop?" Peter asked in a would-be casual tone.<p>

Mr. Pettigrew looked at him in surprise. "Why would I do that?" he replied in bewilderment.

Peter chewed his lip and didn't answer right away. In the past couple days, he'd heard almost nothing from James or Sirius, but had a couple times caught a glimpse of Avery wandering along the cobblestone street, and those moments had sent shivers down Peter's spine. He wasn't sure if Avery was actually following him or if he was just enjoying spending time in Diagon Alley, but it didn't make much of a difference. He couldn't get Bellatrix Lestrange's threat out of his mind.

Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "You could take a holiday. Go to France."

"France?" Mr. Pettigrew repeated dumbly. "Why would I want to go to France?" When Peter didn't answer right away, he asked in a more demanding tone, "Peter, what is this all about?"

"Well, you're getting on in years, Dad," Peter said weakly. "Don't older people like to travel?"

Mr. Pettigrew's lips quirked up into a smile. "I'm getting on in years?" he said, shaking his head in amusement. "Really, Peter, I'm not _that_ old."

"But London is so… gray. Don't you want to see the rest of the world? I hear it's really sunny in France most of the year," Peter pressed. "Or, at least, sunnier than it is here."

"Peter," Mr. Pettigrew said sternly, "tell me what is going on."

"Nothing," Peter protested. "Nothing. I just… thought you might enjoy…" He faltered under his father's stern stare and then let out a long breath and said, "I just think you're going to make some enemies if you stay."

"Enemies?" Mr. Pettigrew laughed outright at the absurdity of that idea. "I run a toy store, Peter. How could I have _enemies_?"

"Well, with the new legislation Malfoy proposed…" Peter started, but his father cut him off.

"You think they'll come after me because so much of the merchandise I sell doesn't use magic? They're mostly Muggle toys?" Peter nodded miserably, deciding that agreeing to that was far safer then saying what was actually on his mind, and Mr. Pettigrew smiled warmly and said, "It's sweet of you to be so worried about me, Peter, but I really doubt Malfoy is going to waste his time on me. He has bigger problems."

He looked past Peter, his eyes settling on something else, and Peter turned to see a carefully folded copy of the previous day's _Daily Prophet_ sitting on a table in the corner.

Like everyone else, Peter had read the article James and his girlfriend had written and had been suitably impressed by his friend's genius and bravery. But it bothered him to no small extent that James hadn't told him of this plan. He and James didn't talk every day because James was busy with Quidditch and Peter had his father's shop to worry about, but something this big…

In the past, James would have told all of his friends – Peter included – about his plan either before going through with it or right after accomplishing it. Why did Peter have to find out by reading the newspaper? Why wouldn't James have sent him an owl or placed a quick fire call, even if only to brag about his own intelligence?

Why did Peter feel as though he was no longer a Marauder?

"James is my friend," Peter said, silently praying that this was still true, "and if Malfoy goes after the Potters, Dad, then he might come after you, too. You're guilty by association."

Mr. Pettigrew clapped Peter on the shoulder. "I'll worry about that when it happens," he said. "It's not as though anyone has threatened me, right?"

Peter gave another miserable nod and lapsed into unhappy silence.

* * *

><p>The first thing Sirius felt when his fist collided with Marcus Avery's face was intense satisfaction. That was followed quickly by a throbbing pain in his hand and then a wariness as Avery reeled back and drew his wand, but even those two feelings were not enough to overwhelm the sheer joy of punching the wizard who had caused so much trouble.<p>

Sirius drew his own wand and held it out in front of him. Avery didn't attack, but his eyes narrowed dangerously and his entire body tensed.

"Black," Avery drawled. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Stay the hell away from Peter," Sirius snarled.

Avery laughed coldly. "Oh, did the little boy go running to his friends for protection?" he asked mockingly. "And let me guess – you're the White Knight here to save the day." He curled his lip. "You're pathetic, Black. You've trampled all over your family name and bloodline, and for what? Half-blood filth and blood traitors? Not to mention _monsters_…"

Sirius curled his free hand into a fist once more. "James, Peter, and Remus are worth so much more than scum like you," he retorted.

"Scum?" Avery asked. "Really?" He leaned forward and said in a hushed tone, "Better tell your precious Potter to watch his back. That little stunt he pulled with the _Daily Prophet_… a lot of very powerful people were quite unhappy about it."

"He's not afraid of you," Sirius declared. "And neither am I."

"Oh, but you really, really should be," Avery murmured. "You have _no idea_ just how dangerous I am."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and allowed a smirk to play across his features as he replied, "I know _exactly_ how dangerous you are. About as dangerous as a ladybug."

"You dare…" Avery started, seething.

"Of course I dare," Sirius interrupted. "Like I said, I'm not afraid of you." He took a threatening step forward, fingers tightening on his wand. "Stay away from Peter. And stay away from Regulus."

"Oh, you want to keep your little brother out of this, do you?" Avery mocked. "What's the matter? Afraid he'll beat you?"

"I don't want you dragging him into this mess," Sirius said forcefully. "He's better than all of you." He wasn't entirely sure he believed that, but Regulus was his brother, and if there was any chance of saving him, Sirius was going to take it. He couldn't stand by and do nothing while his brother went down this path, and he wasn't going to just leave Regulus to Avery's influence.

"You don't want…" Avery started with a confused expression, then trailed off. A moment later realization dawned on his features and he said with a short laugh, "You think I dragged him into this? Black, going after Pettigrew was your _brother's_ idea."


	18. I Think This Is Good Enough

Chapter Eighteen: I Think This Is Good Enough

Edgar Shaw was annoyed.

It didn't take James long to figure that out, though he had absolutely no idea what he could have done to upset the captain of the Wimbourne Wasps. But Shaw _was_ angry, and he was angry at James.

Practice was a miserable affair, though James felt he had actually flown fairly well. But Shaw was constantly yelling at him, growling out admonitions and reprimands. James was still benched and he had no idea when he'd be allowed to play in another game, but by the looks of things, it would be a while.

When practice ended, most of the team landed quickly and headed towards the locker rooms to change. James took his time, though, not really wanting to be in a confined area with his irate captain.

Daphne Dumare also hung back.

"You flew well, James," she said.

James paused and turned towards her. "Thanks," he muttered sourly. "I thought so, too. Pity other people couldn't see that."

Daphne sighed and looked past him towards the locker rooms. "He's not mad at you. Or, rather… he is mad at you, but he's mostly mad because he doesn't have a reason to be mad and it's irritating him."

"Huh?" Nothing Daphne had just said made any sense to James, but _she_ seemed to get exactly what she was trying to convey. And that indicated that she at least understood what was going on, which was certainly more than James did.

Daphne sighed again. "It's the article, James. He's upset about the article."

"Why?" James demanded, eyes narrowing. "He doesn't support Abraxas Malfoy, does he?" He'd assumed that Shaw had more enlightened views on blood status, but since he had never actually spoken to the other wizard about it, it was entirely possible that his assumption was wrong.

James didn't like the idea of playing on the same team as someone who thought so little of Muggleborns.

"No," Daphne murmured, "although there are a lot of people who do." She paused, considering her words carefully, and then said, "And there are a lot of people who believe that purebloods and half-bloods are better than Muggleborns, they just don't think that there should be legislation restricting Muggleborns' rights." Again, she paused, then said, "You know, the way you think that Gryffindors are better than anyone from the other Houses but don't actually think you should discriminate against people because of the Sorting."

James thought of Vanessa and flushed, wondering what she would say if she'd heard Daphne's words.

"It's loyalty, I guess," Daphne continued. "Loyalty to the group you belong to." Then her eyes darted away from James and across the pitch to the locker rooms once more, and she added, "But that's not what Eddie is upset about."

"Then why is he mad at me?"

"You just put his team in jeopardy," Daphne replied with a shrug. "He takes that very seriously."

"I did what?" James retorted in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything…"

"Oh, James, use your head," Daphne admonished with a light laugh. "You're a Potter. Malfoy can't just dismiss your views as the ramblings of a Muggleborn or even a half-blood. The last name Potter carries a lot of weight – people are going to listen to you. They're going to care about the things you say, the things you believe. Malfoy isn't going to risk a backlash by going after you directly – not if he can discredit you by going after the people you associate with."

James frowned. He hadn't really considered that. "So you're saying that Malfoy will go after this team as a means of getting to me?"

Daphne bestowed a smile on him and replied, "Exactly."

"And Shaw is upset about that?"

"Of course," Daphne replied. "He's put a lot of time and effort into building this team. Before he became captain, we were just average. Now we're most definitely above that. You know his reputation – people believe he is capable of all sorts of underhanded things, and they think he's willing to do whatever is necessary to win. And… well, in a lot of ways, he is. That's how the game is played, after all. That's what makes him a good captain."

"And I put all of that in jeopardy," James said slowly.

"It isn't just that you put it in jeopardy," Daphne corrected, "it's that you did it without any thought. It didn't even _occur_ to you that what you were doing could have repercussions for the rest of us."

James swallowed uneasily, finally understanding and appreciating Shaw's anger towards him. But then he thought of Malfoy and his voice hardened as he said, "It was worth it."

"I think Shaw knows that," Daphne replied. "I think… deep down… he understands that there are things more important than Quidditch. After all, his mother was a Muggleborn. If she was still alive, this legislation would affect her."

"I didn't know Shaw was a half-blood," James said thoughtfully. Which wasn't really a surprise, because why would something like that ever come up on the Quidditch pitch?

Daphne pursed her lips together and said, "Honestly, I think the reason Shaw is so mad at you is because he _knows_ you did the right thing."

"What?" James asked sharply. How did _that_ make sense?

"If you'd done the wrong thing, he could be mad at you and it would be legitimate. But you not only put his team in danger, you also did it for all the right reasons, so you've taken away his legitimate claim against you. He _can't_ be mad at you… and that's really making him furious."

James considered this in silence, then nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "I get it." He chewed his lip, thinking, then asked, "Can you… can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Tell Shaw that… that next time I will at least give him a warning before I decide to risk this team in pursuit of justice and all that stuff."

Daphne laughed. "I'll tell him," she promised. "But why can't you tell him yourself?"

"I've got something I need to do," James replied.

* * *

><p>"No."<p>

"Petunia, darling…"

"No, Mum. I am not going to let that… that freak…"

"Don't call your sister names, Petunia!"

Lily closed her eyes, blinking back the tears of frustration and hurt as she listened to the argument. She was certain her mother didn't realize that she had arrived. Petunia wouldn't care if Lily heard all of this, but Mrs. Evans at least did not like it when her younger daughter heard the continual arguments about magic.

"She'll ruin the wedding, Mum. I am not going to let her do that. I don't want her there, turning flowers into frogs and making the teacups dance!"

"That is not going to happen."

"I've already made up my mind. I made it up weeks ago, and you can't change it, Mum. Lily can come to the wedding if she wants, but she is not going to be a bridesmaid. It's _my_ wedding and I _won't_ let her."

"Tuney, darling…"

Lily decided now was a good time to announce her presence, and so she cleared her throat loudly and stepped into the parlor. "Hi, Mum," she said. "The front door was unlocked, I hope you don't mind that I just let myself in."

"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Evans said. She forced a smile, but Lily could see the strain and stress on her mother's face.

Petunia gave a huff of annoyance, flicked her blonde hair over one shoulder, and flounced out of the room.

Lily tried to smile for her mother's benefit, and asked in a tone of forced cheerfulness, "How is the wedding planning going?"

Mrs. Evans gazed at Lily for a moment, then asked, "How much of the argument did you hear?"

"What argument?" Lily replied innocently. Her mother was already under enough pressure from Petunia and Marge's constant demands, there was no reason for Lily to add any stress by admitting she'd heard what Petunia had said about her.

Besides, it wasn't as though there was anything that Mrs. Evans would ever be able to say to fix the relationship between the two estranged sisters.

Mrs. Evans wasn't fooled, but she let it go. "Well, come along," she said. "Everyone is already at the table."

Lily nodded and reluctantly followed her mother out of the room. Her parents' had decided that it would be a good idea to have supper with Vernon's family at least once before the wedding, and, much to both Lily and Petunia's consternation, they had insisted that Lily be there for it.

That meant at least a few hours of listening to Vernon drone on about drills. His boring monologue would be interrupted only by inane comments from his parents and snide remarks from Marge. And in addition to all of that, Lily would be subjected to bitter glances from Petunia.

It was going to be a long night.

And then Caradoc's face floated to the forefront of her mind, and she heard his voice telling her that she was always passionate, that she always felt something and she felt it strongly. She was someone who always stood up for herself and her beliefs, who didn't allow people to insult her without retaliating.

"Don't worry," Lily murmured coolly as she slid into the seat next to Petunia, "I won't make any of the teacups start dancing. We wouldn't want anyone to know you're related to a _freak_."

Petunia jolted in surprise, accidentally knocking over a glass of juice and spilling the liquid along the tablecloth and down the front of her blouse.

Lily smiled.

* * *

><p>"Relax, Wormtail. I promise I didn't poison the drink," James said, rolling his eyes as Peter took a tentative sip from the glass.<p>

"I still don't understand why you decided to drag me to a pub," Peter said, giving James a hesitant look. Then he wrinkled his nose and added, "And I don't understand why you didn't shower and change, first."

James looked down at the robes he was wearing and frowned. "I don't smell that bad," he protested. But, of course, he'd just spent the last several hours practicing Quidditch with Shaw yelling at him, and he had no doubt that he was both dirty and sweaty. He just didn't care.

Peter shrugged. "Keep telling yourself that, Prongs," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He took another sip and added slyly, "Anyway, it was never _poison_ I was worried about. I just don't fancy ending up like Sirius."

James laughed and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I promise there won't be a repeat of _that_ prank."

"Good," Peter said. "Because _I_ know the spell Padfoot used."

During their sixth year at Hogwarts, James had decided to prank Sirius by putting a love potion in his drink. Sirius had spent the next several hours proclaiming his love for every witch he saw – including Professor McGonagall.

It hadn't ended well for him.

It hadn't ended well for James, either. Sirius had retaliated a week later by charming James' robes to vanish while he was wearing them, leaving James only in his undergarments. James still wasn't sure how Sirius had done it, but it happened every day for an entire week, regardless of which pair of robes James was wearing. And it happened at random times, making it incredibly difficult for James to predict when it would occur.

James had taken to wearing Muggle trousers underneath his robes, and then those had started vanishing, too…

It probably would have gone on longer, but one day they vanished in the middle of Transfiguration and McGonagall had _not_ been pleased.

The two wizards were both silent for a moment as they continued drinking their respective beverages, then Peter said, "You decided to take on Abraxas Malfoy."

"Yeah," James said, frowning slowly. "Although I am not sure I though this one through all the way." His conversation with Daphne was still weighing on his mind. Although he was sure that, if he had the whole thing to do over, he would still make the same decision, he was at least aware of how little thought he'd given to the repercussions this would have.

That was why he had finally sought out Peter, determined to right what had gone wrong between them. If Malfoy was going to target people James was close to, Peter would be at the top of that list, and James didn't want his friend facing this alone.

Peter shrugged. "I thought it was brilliant."

James grinned. "Thanks," he said. Then he frowned again. "You don't sound that enthusiastic."

Peter bristled. "I'm not siding with Malfoy if that is what you're worried about," he said.

"It's not," James assured him. "Look, Peter…" He trailed off for a minute, trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. "I get it. I get that you're worried about your father. I get that things are different now that we're not at Hogwarts. But we're your friends. You should have told us about Avery. You should have trusted us. We're on your side; you have to believe _that_."

Peter didn't answer.

"Come on, Wormtail, say something," James pressed. He needed Peter to at least acknowledge that they were all still on the same side. They were the Marauders, and nothing should be able to break them apart – _especially_ not Avery.

"What do you want me to say?" Peter asked.

That wasn't the answer James was looking for. He didn't want Peter to feed him platitudes or repeat whatever he thought James wanted to hear. He wanted an actual conversation.

But any conversation they might have had was cut short by the appearance of Mary, who looked flushed and worried. "James, Peter!" she said. "Thank Merlin you're here. Lily's gone crazy."

"What?" James asked sharply, turning his attention away from Peter and focusing instead of the witch in front of him. "What about Evans?"

Mary pointed behind her, and James swiveled on the barstool until his gaze landed on the redhead sitting next to Alice at the other end of the pub.

She'd just taken a shot of something.

"Is Evans _drinking_?" Peter asked, his tone reflecting the bewilderment that James felt at witnessing the scene.

"I'm trying to convince her to go back to the flat, but she won't listen to me," Mary said. "Maybe you two can help convince her to leave? I don't think she's ever gotten drunk before and she's… well… _belligerent_."

James slid off the barstool. "What is she doing here?"

Mary gave James a guilty look. "It's my fault," she admitted. "Lily was over at her parents' house, with her sister and the oaf her sister is marrying. And the oaf's family. Apparently it was a horrible evening. When she came back to the flat she was really upset. I told her she should go get drunk." James gave Mary and incredulous look and Mary said defensively, "It was a joke. I didn't think she'd actually _agree_."

James pushed past Mary, wondering idly what Lily would be like. Mary had said belligerent, but Lily had _always_ been argumentative towards him, so that wouldn't be anything new.

As he approached, he could see Alice clearly trying to get Lily to leave, but Lily was refusing. She was determinedly grasping the bar with one hand and ineffectually pushing at Alice with the other. But Alice, at least, was sober, and so was able to hold her own against the inebriated redhead.

"I'm having fun, Alice!" Lily was saying as James approached. "And I deserve to have fun. Because Tuney's a right… prig." She frowned. "No, that's not right. Pr… pr… prot? Pogot? Pr…"

"Prat?" James supplied.

Lily started and turned towards him. "Takes one to know one!" she shot back.

"I wasn't calling you a prat, Evans," James said, amused. "I was suggesting that the word you were looking for to describe your sister was prat."

"Are you calling my sister a prat?" Lily demanded, her words slurring. "What gives you th' right to insult m' family?"

"No, I was… oh, never mind," James said. He eyed the shot glass in front of her. "What were you drinking?"

"A drink," Lily replied unhelpfully. Then she tilted her head to the side and stated matter-of-factly, "You're an arrogant toerag, Potter."

James winced a little, and then retorted, "You're a judgmental know-it-all."

"Am not!" Lily said, surging to her feet in defiance. As it turned out, that action was too much for her alcohol-addled sense of balance, and she proceeded to topple forward and collapse against James.

"Merlin, Evans, how much have you had to drink?" James asked as he carefully untangled her from him. Once he had extricated himself from her arms – and tried very hard to ignore the feeling of her fingers grasping at his clothing because that brought up way too many fantasies he didn't have time to think about at the moment – he settled her back onto the barstool.

"I dunno. A few?" Lily replied.

"Lils, come on," Alice said. "Let's get you home."

"You're lucky, Alice," Lily said. "I wish I was as lucky as you."

"Um… right. Well…"

"Frank is boring," Lily said.

"He is not!" Alice protested immediately. "How is being an Auror boring?"

"It's okay, though," Lily said, patting Alice on the shoulder. Or, at least, trying to. Her hand missed a couple of times and she instead slapped Alice on the side of the head, but seemed entirely unaware of this. Instead, she just gave a vague smile and said, "You're boring, too."

James had expected Alice to protest this perceived insult as well, but instead she exchanged a look with Mary and said, "Lils, come on… you'll find someone else."

"Why can't I be boring?" Lily demanded angrily. "Or why couldn't Caradoc be interesting?" She paused, frowning, and then said firmly, "I should go find Caradoc and make him interesting!"

"What's this about Dearborn?" James heard Peter ask Mary.

"He called things off with Lily," Mary murmured in reply.

James spun around to stare at Mary in surprise. "Why would he do that?" he demanded. He had spent a lot of time being jealous of Dearborn, and he'd spent a lot of time trying to come up with reasons to despise the other wizard. It wasn't until after meeting Vanessa that James had finally let go of his annoyance that Dearborn was the one dating Lily. And once he had done that, once he had been able to view the other wizard in a more objective manner, he'd come to the conclusion that Dearborn was a perfectly decent and responsible wizard who clearly cared very deeply for Lily.

Why would he end things with her?

"I'm not passionate about us," Lily said morosely. "That's what he said. I'm supposed to be more passionate." She was silent for a moment, then added thoughtfully, "Maybe if I snogged him more…"

"Alright, Evans," James interrupted, not really wanting to hear that particular thought continued, "I think it's time for you to go home."

"You are still immature," Lily said. "And you wasted my time with chizpurle. Chizpfle… chizpurlef… chiz-something…"

Alice gave James a confused look.

"Chizpurfle fang," James explained. "It's a potion ingredient." To Lily, he said, "Alright, here's the thing. I'm going back to your flat now. So if you want to continue telling me all the ways that I am immature, you're going to need to come with me."

Lily stood up immediately, and kept her balance better this time. She was still swaying, and Mary and Alice quickly moved forward to support her. But despite the fact that she was tottering unsteadily, she willingly followed James from the pub.

Apparently she really wanted to tell him all the reasons she thought he was still immature.

"You have so much bloody potential and you waste it on bloody pranks and getting girls to shag you and being popular, and it's _annoying_," Lily said, and James started at the language she was using. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard her talk like that.

He couldn't remember if he'd _ever_ heard her talk like that.

"The article… was… brilliant, Potter. Do you know that?"

James felt the heat creep into his cheeks at her compliment. Even if she was so drunk that she was stammering and stumbling over her words, he still couldn't help but smile at the fact that she thought he was brilliant.

"You get everything. Everything. You don't even have to… have to… _work_… at it. You're just nature…natura… _naturally_ gifted. Bloody gifted. It's bloody annoying because then you go and waste it. And you have so many… so many good things in your life… like… like Vanessa Lovely and you… ruin them… with… with…" Here Lily trailed off and stopped talking entirely.

James stared at her. "With what?" he asked.

But now they were outside the pub completely, and the cool air seemed to have taken away Lily's energy. She sagged against Alice and said quietly, "Petunia doesn't even want me to come to the wedding. She told me after dinner. She said… she said I should pretend to be… sick. Or really be sick. She thinks I'll ruin it." She closed her eyes and said in a suddenly sober voice, "I thought this would stop hurting me so much."

"Oh, Lils," Alice murmured comfortingly.

"Caradoc called things off, Petunia hates me, and even if I do well at this potion, Healer Lanwick will make sure I don't make it to the next round of the program. I just want… I want something in my life to go _right_. You know?"

"Yeah, Lily," Alice said, "we know."

* * *

><p>The sunlight was blinding.<p>

There was something wrong with that - it was England, after all, and even in the summer, the sunlight was never blinding. It never caused sharp bursts of white-hot pain to race through the skull. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much.

"Good morning, sunshine," a voice said cheerfully, and Lily cracked open one eye.

"No, it's not," she said hoarsely. "Merlin, Mary, what happened to me?"

"It's called a hang-over, Lily," Mary said, entering the bedroom with a glass in one hand. "Drink this. It's a potion, it should help. At least a little."

Lily wrinkled her nose at the foul smell, but downed the potion in one gulp. It would be worth it, she decided, if it made her head stop hurting. Anything would be worth getting rid of this migraine.

Her stomach rolled over and she groaned, fighting back the queasy feeling.

"You had a bit too much to drink last night," Mary said.

Lily nodded, and then immediately regretted it as the movement made her head start pounding. She winced and rubbed at her temples.

"I don't remember much," she admitted slowly. Everything was still hazy regardless of how frantically she tried to grab at the pieces. It made her uneasy that she had so little memory of the previous night, and she asked with apprehension, "Did I do anything embarrassing?"

Mary smirked. "Depends on what you consider embarrassing," she replied teasingly. Lily gave her an annoyed look, and she relented, saying "It wasn't too bad. You told Alice that she and Frank were boring, told James he was an arrogant toerag, and told all of us about your dinner with Petunia."

"Potter was there?" Lily asked immediately. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to recall what had happened, but the vague memories evaded her. Still… she had a feeling whatever happened hadn't been good. What had she said to Potter?

Mary must have seen Lily's concern, because she said, "You called James arrogant and immature. You also called him brilliant, but said he wasted all of his potential and ruined the good things he had." She shrugged. "Honestly, Lily, it wasn't anything you wouldn't have said to him while you were completely sober, too."

"Why was he even _there_?"

"He and Peter were already at the pub," Mary explained, sitting down on the edge of Lily's bed. "After it became clear that you'd had a bit too much to drink, Alice tried to get you to leave. You refused very adamantly, and so I went to get James and Peter for support."

Lily groaned.

"It was a good thing, too," Mary said, frowning at Lily. "James is the one who managed to get you back to the flat."

"I don't remember any of it," Lily complained.

"Well, next time don't drink as much," Mary replied sensibly.

Lily closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. That, too, proved to be a mistake and she almost immediately felt like gagging. But, fortunately, the nausea passed soon enough.

"Really, what in Merlin's name possessed you to drink that much last night?" Mary pressed.

"You suggested it!"

Mary rolled her eyes. "It was a joke, and you knew that," she replied pointedly. "Besides, I've suggested you do a lot of things over the years and you rarely listened to me."

Lily pursed her lips and didn't answer. It wasn't that she didn't have an answer – she did. She knew exactly why she had decided getting drunk last night was a good idea. But she didn't really want to talk about it with Mary.

Although, given how little memory she had of the previous night, it was entirely possible that she had already told Mary everything that was bothering her.

It wasn't just the break up with Caradoc. That hurt, of course, but combined with everything else…

If the main problem in her relationship with Caradoc had been that it was too easy, what did that say about her? Did it mean that everything in her life had to be difficult? That her identity was wrapped up in choosing battles that would end up hurting her? She had taken on the Wolfsbane potion, even knowing that it would most likely ruin her chances of continuing on in the program. She kept trying to hold onto her friendship with Petunia even though her sister refused to reciprocate.

She sighed and rubbed blearily at her eyes.

"This isn't you," Mary said flatly.

Lily glanced at her, one eyebrow raised.

Mary shrugged. "I'm just saying… the Lily I knew at Hogwarts didn't get drunk just because some things went wrong in her life. She didn't sit around moping about how things were unfair. When someone pushed her around, she didn't lie on the floor and let them. She got up and fought back."

Lily gave a bitter smile and said, "The Lily at Hogwarts had the backing of most of the Hogwarts staff. The Lily at Hogwarts knew that the most she was ever risking was a detention of a few well-placed hexes. I don't have that here."

Mary inclined her head. "Well, I can agree with you on the detention and hexes issue – you do have a lot more to lose now. But as for the backing of the staff… I think you would find that there are some very influential people willing to support you if you would just _let_ them. Besides…" She stood up and ran her hand down the length of her robes, smoothing out the wrinkles, "if you really believe in what you're doing, isn't it worth the risks?"

* * *

><p>"Well, it's nice to see you aren't drunk today, Evans," James said cheerfully.<p>

Lily flushed. "About that," she said hesitantly, "I… uh… I don't really remember much of what happened, but I'm sorry if I said anything that… you know… offended you."

"Don't worry about it," James said, waving away her apology. "It's not like I haven't heard all those insults from you before."

"Right, well…" Lily trailed off, unsure of what to say next, and settled instead for looking at the stack of books James was carrying. "What is that?" she asked.

"A few books I found on transfiguration theory," James said enthusiastically. He settled them on the kitchen table and picked up the first one. "I think this one will be the most helpful. It's about curses that cause the victim to transform themselves into animals. It's interesting, because the caster doesn't have to pick a specific animal. The victim will just spontaneously transform into whatever animal they most closely resemble. And then they're stuck like that."

"So… it's like forcing someone to become an Animagus? Only the person can't change back on their own?" Lily asked curiously, taking the book and flipping through the pages. "I've never heard of them."

"The spells are incredibly difficult and require a lot of power," James answered. "Also, the International Confederation of Wizards banned their use in official duels back in the early 1600s."

"Potter, this is… this is great," Lily murmured, reading the table of contents. "I didn't even think to look at these kinds of spells… There could be something in here."

James grinned at the praise.

They worked in companionable silence for a while, each taking notes. Once or twice, Lily found herself glancing up at James. Although he had been helpful – albeit somewhat annoying – at their other work session, this was the first time she'd seen him really apply himself to the research. He barely spoke, and when he did it was to discuss whatever interesting passage he had found or to offer ideas for practical testing.

He was different today, and Lily couldn't figure out why. She was tempted to ask, but then decided against it. Why start pressing for explanations when she could just enjoy the change in his behavior? Knowing James, it wasn't likely to last.

Towards the end of their research session, however, James managed to surprise her one more time.

He cleared his throat and looked up from his book. "You know," he said casually, "Sirius ran away from home a couple years back."

Lily nodded slowly, confused by the seemingly random comment. She _had_ known about Sirius; almost everyone in Gryffindor seemed to know about his final split from his family. It had been frequently brought up in the often public fights with Regulus, and gossip spread like wildfire through Hogwarts.

"Sometimes family disappoints you," James continued quietly. "Sometimes… sometimes things get too broken to be fixed." He met Lily's eyes. "So you make your own family. It might not be perfect, it might not be exactly what you want, and it might hurt that you can't fix things with your blood kin, but… it can still be good enough. It can still make you happy."


	19. And I Try to Laugh At What Life Brings

Chapter Nineteen: And I Try To Laugh At Whatever Life Brings

Once again, James found himself standing in the doorway to his father's study. It was getting to be a rather common occurrence, and although James had never been the type who felt that he outgrew his parents, it was unusual for him to spend this much time talking to his father.

Mr. Potter looked up from his desk, glancing at James with a somewhat bemused smile. "What can I do for you, James?" he asked.

James shuffled into the room. This question was a bit awkward. Although he'd known that his surname and money could – and often did – get him everything he wanted, he rarely tried to use either so blatantly. It felt uncomfortable to do so now.

But he was here for a reason.

"What do you know about the Master Medicinal Potioneer training program?"

Mr. Potter frowned. "Not much," he said slowly. "It's a bit out of my usual area of interest. Why?"

"Do you know how students move from one level to the next? I mean… who makes that decision?" James questioned, coming further into the room.

"It's an elite program," Mr. Potter mused, "so I imagine that several of the more senior potions Masters and Healers at St. Mungo's are involved. But I don't know any of the specifics."

James accepted this silently, then cleared his throat and asked, "If you knew that someone wasn't going to get a fair review, would there be anyway to influence the results so that… so that they couldn't be discriminated against?"

Mr. Potter pursed his lips. "Why wouldn't this person get a fair review?" he asked a bit skeptically.

James grimaced, and when he answered, his voice was laced with disgust for all the prejudice against werewolves that he'd witnessed over the past few years, "She's working on the Wolfsbane potion."

"Ah." Mr. Potter clicked his tongue against his teeth as he considered James' request. "Do you want to buy her a place in the next round?" he asked slowly, studying James carefully.

"What? Merlin, no!" James said quickly. "I mean… I shouldn't even have to. Evans is brilliant, she _should_ pass on her own. I just want to ensure that they're reviewing the progress she's made on the potion and not…" He stopped, trailed off uncertainly. "I don't want the review to be about discrimination against werewolves."

"I see," Mr. Potter said. "Well, I can look into it for you if you would like, but you have to understand that, even if you could buy her a fair review, it is going to seem like you are buying her an acceptance to the next round."

"But I'm _not_," James protested.

Mr. Potter shrugged. "People will have a difficult time seeing that. I'll see what I can do about this, but … I'm not sure you'd be doing her any favors. If she passes to the next round because of our money, no one will take her seriously."

James deflated a bit at that. He knew – at least on some level – that his father was right. But he still didn't like the idea of letting other people's prejudice dictate Lily's success. And it wasn't just Lily who stood to gain – or lose – by this. If she didn't move on to the next round, if she didn't have an opportunity to continue working on this potion, who would?

And if no one worked on it, Remus would be the one to suffer for it.

"Is there any way it can be done… discreetly? So that other people don't find out?" James asked finally.

Mr. Potter nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. Let me look into it."

* * *

><p>"So… you're the Slytherin girlfriend," Sirius drawled as he leaned against the corner of the small office and studied Vanessa Lovely. He could give James this much: she was absolutely stunning. Of course, looks weren't <em>quite<em> enough to make up for her House affiliations, but they did help.

Vanessa glanced at him thoughtfully, then said, "You must be a Black. You have the family features." She tilted her head to the side. "Sirius?" He nodded, and she asked coolly, "What do you want?"

"What do you know about the Averys?" Sirius asked. He was rewarded by a look of complete astonishment and a moment of silence. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting that question.

"Very little," she said. "Why?"

"One of them was in your year, right? The daughter?" Sirius pressed, striding forward and pulling out the chair in front of her desk. He flopped into it and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. But, unlike James' hair, it didn't stay sticking out at odd angles, but instead fell gracefully back into place.

Vanessa wrinkled her nose. "Celeste," she said distastefully. "We didn't exactly… get along." She narrowed her eyes and demanded suspiciously, "Why do you care about the Averys?"

Sirius didn't know Celeste Avery particularly well, but he'd met her once or twice when he was younger. The Averys were one of the few pureblood families that hadn't married into the Blacks in recent years, making their children potential wives for Sirius and Regulus. Sirius was fairly certain that his mother and the Averys had been hoping one of them would marry Celeste, though now that Sirius was disowned that particular burden would not fall to him.

And with Regulus involved with Eliza Greengrass… well, Celeste was just out of luck with the Blacks.

"Black?" Vanessa prompted.

Sirius shook his head, pushing away the thoughts, and said, "Marcus Avery has gotten my brother involved in… something. And I want to know how."

Vanessa raised one eyebrow and snapped furiously, "So you think I'm somehow involved in this? Are you here to interrogate me?"

Sirius waved away the angry accusation and replied, "James said you were good at discovering things. At getting people to talk to you. I thought perhaps if you were friendly with Celeste Avery…"

"I'm not," Vanessa cut in sharply. She opened her mouth to say something else, then seemed to reconsider. After a moment, she leaned back in her seat and added, "Not that it would matter now. After the article James and I wrote, I sincerely doubt anyone in that family is going to be talking to me any time soon. And no doubt Morrison has figured out that I was just using him for information, and he'll have told the others."

She seemed disgruntled by the admission, and Sirius wondered if this meant that her career was in jeopardy. Had the other pureblood families started putting pressure on the _Prophet_ to get rid of her? Or was she worried that no one would talk to her anymore now that she had made such powerful enemies.

Angering Quidditch stars was one thing. Angering the Malfoys and Lestranges was something else entirely.

Sirius considered this, and then answered her question with the only bit of reassureance he could give, "Maybe. But maybe not. Maybe Morrison doesn't want to admit that he was so easily manipulated. He has his pride, after all."

Vanessa nodded, then asked almost diffidently, "If the Averys are mixed up in Abraxas Malfoy and Lysander Lestrange's plan to get Muggleborns out of the Ministry, and if your brother agrees with their pureblood supremacy views… wouldn't that be enough for him to get involved?"

Sirius chewed his lip and didn't answer. Avery had said that going after Peter had been Regulus' idea, and Sirius didn't want to believe that. He wanted – needed – to believe that there was more to the story, that Avery – or the Malfoys or Lestranges – had somehow coerced Regulus into becoming involved, and only after that had he come up with the plan to target Peter.

But Sirius had to admit that he didn't know his brother anymore – and it had been a while since Regulus had become someone that Sirius no longer recognized.

Still… if he was going to believe Avery, he wanted proof.

"Why didn't you get along with Celeste?" Sirius asked curiously.

Vanessa shrugged. "I didn't have pure enough blood for her. I didn't have good enough looks. And I wasn't particularly talented at magic. I was beneath her notice."

Sirius gave a barking laugh. "You've got looks now," he said. "Did you really not have them before?"

Vanessa didn't answer, but she scowled, clearly annoyed at the implication that she was lying.

Sirius sighed. "Look… I don't hate Slytherins."

"Really?" Vanessa asked skeptically.

"I hate Slytherins who are obsessed with pureblood and the Dark Arts," Sirius continued, ignoring Vanessa's comment. "But my Uncle Alphard was in Slytherin, and he was a decent bloke. And Aunt Andromeda was a Slytherin, too, and she married a Muggleborn. So I don't hate you, because you don't seem like… well, like the vast majority of my family." Then he narrowed his eyes and added, "But James is my best mate."

_That_ implication was clear – whatever happened, Sirius would always take James' side.

It took Vanessa a moment to answer, and then she sighed and said, "I'm sorry I don't have the information you're looking for. But I don't know why your brother is involved in this. Have you considered asking him?"

Sirius grimaced. He had considered it, and he really didn't want to. But he had to know, and if no one else could tell him…

He heaved a sigh. Maybe it was time to pay his brother a visit.

* * *

><p>"So, I met Lupin and Black," Vanessa said casually as she followed James along the sidewalk.<p>

James stopped and turned towards her, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? When?" he asked.

"They both came to see me after our argument," Vanessa answered. "Lupin wanted to convince me that you weren't a prejudiced git and Black wanted to know if I knew anything about the Averys."

James nodded. He wasn't surprised that Remus would take it upon himself to do whatever he could to fix James' relationship. He also wasn't surprised that Sirius would seek out Vanessa in an attempt to find answers. After his most recent study session with Lily, he'd returned to his home to find Sirius waiting for him. The other wizard had filled him in on everything he'd learned from Avery, particularly the troubling bit about targeting Peter being all Regulus' idea.

Sirius had been furious, but he'd finally calmed down over the course of the discussion, and had left determined to get a full explanation.

"Sirius is upset about everything," James said.

"And you?" Vanessa questioned. "Are you upset, too?"

James slanted a look at Vanessa and then resumed walking. He knew she was subtly asking about their argument – neither of them really knew where they stood. James had apologized for his assumptions about her, and she had apologized for not being more understanding of the fact that several Slytherins were currently trying to tear apart James' group of friends and he had very good reasons to be suspicious of anyone who lied to him. But there was still some sort of barrier between them, a wall that hadn't been there before.

"I'm tired of not knowing what is going on," James said. "I'm tired of people trying to manipulate me."

Vanessa didn't press the subject, but instead asked, "Where are we going?"

James grinned. "I went out with Peter a couple nights ago, and he reminded me of some pranks Sirius and I had played on each other at Hogwarts. It's been a while since I've done anything like that."

"Should I be worried?" Vanessa asked apprehensively.

James laughed. "Of course not. You're not going to be the target. And, anyway, I don't have anything big planned. Just a few spells, a little bit of fun…" He gave her a wink. "Nothing as amazing as what I did at Hogwarts."

"Who is?" Vanessa demanded. When James answered with an enigmatic smile, Vanessa pressed, "Do you really think this is a good time for pranks? With all the stress and… well, just with everything that is going on with your friends, I think the last thing any of them need is to be at the receiving end of a prank."

James shook his head. "With everything that is going on, this is _exactly_ what we need. Never underestimate the power of a good laugh."

* * *

><p>"What is this?" Lily demanded, stumbling out of the fireplace and waving a piece of parchment at Remus. "What <em>is<em> this?"

Remus flinched at her ire and glanced at the parchment quickly. He could see his handwriting all over it, and knew it was the letter he had sent her. But he didn't understand why she was so upset. He'd thought it all through when he sent the letter, and it was obviously the right thing to do.

"Lily…" he started, but she cut him off.

"Stop the potion? _Stop_ the potion? Have you lost your mind?" She slammed the letter down onto the kitchen table between them. "Why on earth would I go back to working on a cure for spattergroit?"

Remus sighed. The last thing he had expected to have happen when he sent the letter was for Lily to show up in his house looking so furious. He was silently thankful that neither of his parents were home as he doubted this would be a conversation he'd want them to overhear.

He was also a little surprised that Lily had decided to Floo over instead of knocking on the front door. The Lupin's didn't have any wards on their fireplace so she could come in uninvited, but it wasn't exactly the polite thing to do.

Clearly, she was too annoyed with him to care about that.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Lily demanded.

"I talked to Peter," Remus said. "He told me about… well… you. About when you got drunk and everything you said and about how your sister hated you and Dearborn called it quits and I didn't want you to think that I thought that it was alright for me to use you and destroy everything you'd worked for just to… oh, hang it, I'm not saying this right."

Lily had flushed a dark red at the mention of her night at the pub, but her gaze never wavered from his face. She was still waiting for an explanation.

"You're not going to go onto the next stage," Remus said stubbornly. "If you continue with the Wolfsbane potion, it will ruin your future. It's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Lily repeated incredulously. "Not _worth_ it? You and Potter and Black have been trying to convince me that it was worth it ever since I started having doubts and now that I've agreed with you all again, you go and change your mind?"

"It's your future," Remus protested. He had been trying to convince her that it was worth it, but that was before he'd realized just how much this was destroying everything she so desperately wanted. They were friends, and he couldn't do this to her.

He couldn't be the reason she didn't succeed.

"Exactly! It's _my_ future. It's _my_ choice," Lily countered, oblivious to this thoughts.

"And you're just going to throw it all away?" Remus demanded. "You're willing to do that?"  
>"For what I believe in? For fighting discrimination and prejudice? Of course I'm willing to do it!"<p>

"It's not a big deal," Remus said, practically mumbling. It _was_ a big deal and he didn't like lying to her, but he just didn't see any other way of getting her to drop the potion. "The transformations… I'll be alright. I don't need…"

"Oh, get over yourself!" Lily snapped. Remus was entirely taken aback by that response and merely gaped at her. She didn't seem to notice this, or just didn't care. "You're not the only one who faces discrimination," she pressed on. "You're not the only one who people look down on for things you can't control."

"Lily…"

"Stop being a martyr! Stop insisting on just being a victim!"

Remus opened and closed his mouth several times, at a complete loss for words. Lily was still glaring at him, still flushed red in either anger or embarrassment – or both – and he wanted her to understand, wanted her to see that it wasn't that simple.

"I can't be the reason that you lose your dreams," he said finally. "I can't have that on my shoulders, too."

Lily scoffed. "Are you really so arrogant that you truly think everything that happens is because of you?" she demanded. "I thought that only Potter and Black had such high opinions of their own importance." She took a step closer to him. "If I don't go on to the next stage of the program, it will be because of _my_ choices and _Healer Lanwick's_ prejudice. It _won't_ be because of you."

"Of course it will be because of me," Remus argued. "You chose Wolfsbane because of me, didn't you?"

The kitchen door squeaked on its hinges and Remus glanced at it with a frown. But there was nothing there, and he shook it off as a figment of his imagination.

"Yes, but it was _my_ choice," Lily said again, sounding frustrated. She paused, took a breath, and then continued, "You can't make it about you. I won't let you."

"You won't _let_ me?" Remus repeated disbelievingly.

"There is so little else in my life that I have any control over right now," Lily said. "Things keep happening _to_ me. But this… this is something _I _did. This is a choice_ I_ made. This isn't something that was forced on me by society and it wasn't some decision that someone else made for me. This was me – _all_ me." She paused, then added scathingly, "And I am not going to let you take that away from me just so you can be a martyr and continue convincing yourself that fighting prejudice against you isn't _worth_ it."

There were so many things Remus wanted to say, but the words got stuck in his throat. The fiery determination in Lily's eyes was enough to convince him that she wasn't going to back down, and he wanted to tell her how grateful he was. He wanted to tell her how much it meant to him that she was willing to stand by him despite everything.

And he wanted to tell her that he _didn't_ want to be the victim and he _didn't_ want to take away her choices and diminish her decisions, but he still couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that she was making such incredible sacrifices for him.

But maybe it wasn't for him. Maybe that was what she was trying to say – she wasn't doing this just for him. She was doing it for her, too.

And then the light above them suddenly went out.

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised. "Great," he muttered under his breath. There was fortunately still enough light from the windows to see, so he took a step towards the cupboard where his parents' kept spare parts for the various Muggle appliances in the house. "Hold on, Lily, I'll grab a new light bulb

The moment the words were out of his mouth, the shades on the windows dropped, sending the room into darkness. It wasn't pitch black, but it was still dark enough that it was a challenge to see.

He took a step forward and bumped into the table.

"What the…" Remus heard Lily mutter. He turned towards the vague outline that he assumed must be her just as she asked, "Remus? Everything alright?"

"That's weird," Remus said slowly, rubbing his leg. It wasn't unusual for shades to break, he supposed, but for both of them to fall at exactly the same time just after the light had gone out? _That_ was not normal.

He reached into his pocket and came up empty. For a moment, he felt sheer panic at the realization that he didn't have his wand, but the irrational fear was replaced a moment later by the memory of taking it out of his pocket and placing it on the counter. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember exactly where that had been, and it was too dark to see something as innocuous as a piece of wood lying on the ceramic tiles.

Lily, fortunately, did have her wand with her, and she pulled it out and murmured, "Lumus." The room was immediately washed in light.

Remus walked over to the shades and inspected them.

And they fell, breaking loose from the bar at the top of the window and landing on his head. They weren't heavy, but the cloth was long enough that he was almost immediately tangled up in it.

He heard Lily giggle, and then murmur a spell. The shades slipped off of him and fell to the floor.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Remus grumbled.

"Maybe your house in haunted," Lily suggested with a wry grin, her earlier anger at him momentarily forgotten by the strange happenings.

As if on cue, the radio crackled to life and started playing _Yellow Submarine_.

"I didn't know you liked the Beatles," Lily commented, glancing at the Muggle contraption in surprise.

"I don't," Remus answered, giving the radio a puzzled look.

"You _don't_?" Lily echoed, aghast. "What is wrong with you?"

Remus was about to reply when the sink exploded.

Well, it didn't quite explode. The metal ring at the base of the faucet snapped, and the pressure from the water in the pipes was suddenly to much for the faucet to handle. It came spewing out, and covered Remus, Lily, and the floor, walls, and kitchen table.

"Bloody hell," Remus cried, and darted towards the sink. He slipped on the water on the floor, however, and crashed into the refrigerator instead. The door swung open as soon as he hit it, and a carton of eggs dropped out and shattered, spattering egg yolk all over his robes.

Lily hurried to his side, her shoes slipping and sliding on the water and the egg. She pulled him back to standing, then waved her wand at the sink to stop the water.

Remus stared at the egg yolk on his clothing, then turned and scanned the kitchen, looking for his wand. Finding it lying on the opposite counter – was that really where he had left it? – he walked carefully across the wet floor. He was so intent on not slipping on the water that he didn't notice when the cupboard above him suddenly swung open, and Lily's cry of warning came a split-second too late. Several potions bottles tumbled out, and one broke on his hair while another shattered against his robes. Almost immediately, both his hair and his robes turned neon green and pink.

Remus snatched his wand from the counter… and it promptly turned into a rubber chicken. He stared at it for a long moment, feeling completely dumbfounded.

The sound of laughter shook him from his stupor and he turned in time to see James and Vanessa appear in the corner of the kitchen as James' invisibility cloak slid to the floor. James was laughing so hard he could barely stand straight and had to hold onto the wall for support. Vanessa was slightly more restrained, but she was laughing as well.

"Oh, Moony… the look on your face…" James gasped between bouts of laughter, "absolutely… _priceless_."

Remus stared blankly at James.

Then Lily started laughing.

It began as a giggle, then grew into full-blown laughter as tears of mirth leaked from her eyes. She clutched at her sides, ignoring the droplets of water dripping from her hair and the egg yolks on her shoes. James looked at her in surprise, and so did Remus.

"Uh… Evans… you alright?" James asked, clearly having expected a lecture or screaming or… well, anything other than laughter from the temperamental redhead.

He took a step towards her, slipped on the wet floor, and went crashing to the ground. He and Vanessa were holding hands, and so she went tumbling down after him.

Remus started laughing.

* * *

><p>The fact that Regulus was frequenting a remarkably seedy bar was not a surprise to Sirius. The younger Black might only be seventeen, but he had fallen in with a group of older witches and wizards at Hogwarts, and their influence had rubbed off on him. That, too, was not a surprise – Regulus had always been impressionable. First meekly taking up his parents' ideals and now allowing others to dictate his continued beliefs…<p>

Sirius hesitated for a moment in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the clientele. No one gave him a second glance.

Regulus was sitting at the bar, talking to someone that Sirius didn't recognize. But he looked up, then, and caught Sirius' eye. Something twisted in the expression on his face, then he murmured an apology to his companion and slid off the barstool.

Sirius watched in silence, growing angrier with every passing second, as Regulus approached him.

"What do you want?" Regulus demanded by way of greeting.

It was obvious that Regulus didn't want to waste any time with pleasantries, and for once, Sirius decided not to needle him. Instead, he said coldly, "Marcus Avery said it was your idea to go after Peter."

Regulus' stare was unreadable as he replied, "Pettigirew? You're here about him?"

Sirius grabbed Regulus by the arm and dragged him out of the bar. It was getting dark outside, but the air was still warm enough, though tinged with the smell of cigarette smoke.

"Is it true?" Sirius demanded.

Regulus yanked his arm out of Sirius' grasp but made no move to back away or return to the bar. Instead, he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and said, "Lucius Malfoy asked me what would be the easiest way to cause problems for you. I told him Pettigrew was the weak link of your group." He paused, then added, "Of course, Snape confirmed that, so I suppose you could argue that the two of us came up with the plan."

Regulus' detachment and disregard for the lives he was trying to ruin made Sirius seethe. But below the fury he also felt a bit of relief that it wasn't as clear-cut as Avery had indicated. Regulus wasn't the mastermind behind all of this, he was just suggesting ideas.

That meant something… didn't it?

"So you… you and Snivellus sent your buddies after Peter?"

"He _is_ the weakest one in your group," Regulus replied calmly, coolly.

Sirius clenched one hand into a fist and fought back the urge to hit his brother, to wipe that impassive look off his face. "Why? Just… just tell me _why_," he snarled.

"What do you mean?" Regulus asked curiously.

"Why does Malfoy want to destroy us so badly?" Sirius elaborated. "Does he really think James and I are the greatest threat to his legislation?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow as he replied, "I think Potter already _has_ done some damage with that article of his." Then he added, "But it is hardly about _that_."

"What?"

Regulus folded his arms over his chest. "While causing problems for you and Potter will certainly be… beneficial… to Abraxas Malfoy's legislation, that is hardly the reason Lucius is interested in you." He took a step closer, his voice lowering as he continued, "He married Narcissa, Sirius. _Think_ about what that means. Use your _head_."

It took Sirius a moment to put the pieces together, and then he said in a stunned whisper, "He thinks we're family now."

"You _are_ family, Sirius," Regulus replied. "He married Cissy so he's your _cousin_, regardless of what Mum did to your name on the tapestry. And you know the Malfoys… pureblood, wealthy, magically powerful, _elite_… They care about reputation. They care about perception. And you are a disgrace to him."

Sirius took that all in, silently mulling over what Regulus was saying. So Lucius Malfoy was targeting the Marauders because he wanted to cause Sirius trouble. This wasn't part of some master plan. It wasn't part of a greater pureblood agenda. This was personal.

This was petty, vindictive revenge.

"He has two options. Get you to return to our family and everything it stands for, or crush you," Regulus said.

"And you decided to help him?" Sirius hissed. His fingers were clenched so tightly now that his knuckles had turned white and his fingernails were biting into the skin of his palm. And he wanted to hurt Regulus, wanted to make him pay for everything that had happened over the past several weeks.

Regulus allowed himself the smallest of smirks as he said, "Lucius came to _me_ for advice."

"And you couldn't wait to help him," Sirius sneered. "First you're Mum's loyal lapdog, and now Lucius. Always looking for someone to follow. Can't even think for yourself. Can't even think _of_ yourself."

"I _am_ thinking of myself," Regulus countered. "There is going to be a new order soon, Sirius, and the Malfoys are going to be at the top of it. And I'm only seventeen, but I'll be right there at the top, too." His eyes narrowed. "After everything you've done, someone has to pull the Black name out of the mud."

"I'm not the reason our family name has been dragged through filth," Sirius retorted. He slowly relaxed his clenched fist and forced himself to calm down. He didn't want to start a fistfight with Regulus. As satisfying as it would be to make his brother bleed, he'd already learned everything he needed to know. He'd done what he came here to do, and now it was time to talk to James and figure out what to do next.

He turned away, but Regulus called him back.

"Don't," Regulus said. "Don't fight him."

"Malfoy?" Sirius asked incredulously, snapping his gaze to his brother's face. "You want me to _not_ fight Malfoy?"

"Let him go after Pettigrew," Regulus said.

"Why? So he can break Peter? So you can tell everyone how your little plan worked?" Sirius spat. "You really don't care about anyone besides yourself, do you?" He spun on his heel, prepared to leave.

"I'm trying to help you!" Regulus protested.

"Help me?" Sirius scoffed. "You don't care about me. You don't give a damn what happens to me or any of my friends."  
>"Lucius knows about Lupin," Regulus said.<p>

And Sirius froze.

He turned around slowly, eyeing his brother warily. "Knows what?" he asked noncommittally, refusing to show his fear.

"Snape told him," Regulus said softly. "As soon as he left Hogwarts. Dumbledore's threats couldn't keep him silent anymore. So now Lucius knows your precious Lupin is a monster."

"Remus is _not_ a monster!"

Regulus ignored the comment and continued, "Lucius' first plan was to use _that_ against you. That little prank you played on Snape…? If Lucius breathes one word of that to anyone – if the knowledge that you and Lupin conspired to turn another student into a werewolf…"

"We didn't conspire! And Remus had nothing to do with _any_ of that!"

Again, Regulus ignored Sirius' outburst, "If that knowledge reaches the right ears, tell me… what do you think is going to happen?"

"It was a prank… it was just a joke. Just for laughs," Sirius defended himself. Badly.

Regulus shrugged. "Won't matter. Soon everyone will know that Lupin is a werewolf, and that his three best friends knew he was a werewolf and didn't care. Any good barrister will go a step further, will say that you were pleased that Lupin was a monster because you could use him to get revenge on people you didn't like. And Lupin will get interrogated for what happened at Hogwarts, probably even carted off to Azkaban for a few years… _or more_. And you'll have to pick a side – stand with your friend and have your life ruined, too, or turn your back on him."

Sirius stared at him, horrorstruck.

"_That_ was Lucius' initial plan," Regulus said. "But I convinced him that it wouldn't work. I told him that you would stand by Lupin – and so would Potter. I told him the last thing he wanted right now was an all-out battle with the Potters. They'd probably get the McKinnons and Prewitts on their side. And maybe even the McMillans. With Lucius' father's legislation coming under review, subtly was more the way to go." He paused, then said thoughtfully, "Of course, now that Potter had written that article and the legislation will likely be under attack by those very same families, Malfoy might revert back to his original plan." He shrugged. "But maybe not. I'm still trying to convince him it won't work."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and tried not to think about what could happen to Remus if Malfoy went after him.

Going after Peter would also cause damage – had _already_ caused damage. But not of the same kind, not of the same magnitude. It might tear apart the Marauders, but no one would go to prison.

It was then that Sirius realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Regulus was trying to _save_ him. Because he knew Sirius and he knew that Sirius would never turn his back on Remus. If he had to make a choice, he'd allow his own future to be ruined before he'd stand idly by and let Remus face Azkaban for something he had no control over.

Regulus wanted to save his brother… but he was willing to sacrifice all the people Sirius cared about in order to do it.


	20. Cause When I Look Down

Chapter Twenty: 'Cause When I Look Down

Peter could tell that Sirius didn't want him there.

It wasn't anything obvious. Sirius didn't glare or yell or accuse. But there was something strained in his tone when he spoke to Peter, and his words were just slightly too formal and slightly too polite.

James didn't seem to notice, but that had _always_ been the case. When it came to Sirius, James never noticed – or, if he did notice, he quickly overlooked whatever problematic thing he had seen. And it didn't bother Peter, not really, because James and Sirius might be best mates, but they were also _his_ friends. He had no reason to be jealous.

And yet…

He sighed and tried to push away the sharp stab of pain in his chest.

"…and Malfoy will go after Moony if he thinks it will help him get to me. My _darling_ brother is positive about that," Sirius finished.

Sirius had been updating James on the latest development and James was seething, his expression dark and stormy. And Peter, too, felt rage that anyone would target Remus, particularly if he was merely a means to an end. But Peter also noted bitterly that _he_ hadn't been informed of any of the previous events, and if he hadn't already been at James' house, chances were that Sirius wouldn't think to tell him about _this_ either.

Just like James' article. He was being kept out of the loop. Was he being pushed out of the Marauders?

It wasn't time to be jealous. It wasn't time to let his insecurities rule his thoughts. Remus could be in serious trouble and they had to focus on that.

But Peter just couldn't let it go.

"We can't tell Moony," James said quietly.

Sirius frowned. "We might not have a choice," he countered pointedly, sounding uneasy. "We can't leave him unprepared."

But James shook his head resolutely. "I was over there yesterday," he explained. "He was arguing with Evans about the Wolfsbane potion."

Sirius' confused expression hardened into a grimace, and he asked, "Is Evans threatening to quit _again_? I thought you'd knocked some sense into her."

James gave Sirius an annoyed look and said in defense of the redhead, "_She_ wasn't the one who wanted to quit."

The implication of that statement surprised Sirius, but Peter wasn't really sure why. Remus had always been willing to play the martyr, to put everyone else's needs above his own. If he knew how much this potion was costing Lily, _of course_ he would consider trying to convince her to drop it.

"Why?" Sirius demanded.

James shrugged. "You weren't there, at the bar, Padfoot," he said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets with a sigh. "You didn't hear what she said, didn't hear how much she stands to lose…" He trailed off.

Sirius scowled, then said, "Remus wasn't there, either. How does he even know about it?"

There wasn't an accusation in his tone, but Peter bristled all the same. He had never intended for his words to make Remus give up on a potion that could change his life. But Remus was still speaking to him, and Sirius wasn't, and Peter had just wanted to keep his friend updated on everything that had happened.

He hadn't thought this one through all the way.

Unfortunately for Peter, Sirius saw the way he sudden stiffened and rounded on his friend in anger. "_You_ told him?"

"Padfoot…" James said warningly.

"What were you _thinking_?" Sirius growled, ignoring James.

Peter took a step backwards, shrinking into himself. "I didn't… I wasn't. Remus just wanted to know how things were going, so…"

"So you told him that Evans' life is being ruined because of him?" Sirius hissed. "Are you really that _daft_?"

"No! I didn't mean for that to… Evans was drunk," Peter defended himself. "It was _funny_. I thought…" He stopped, his mouth dry. He didn't know how to explain this in a way that would make Sirius actually listen.

"Sirius, that's _enough_," James said authoritatively.

Sirius glowered at James, but lapsed into silence.

Peter took the opportunity to say, "Moony said he doesn't see either of you much. He felt left out. I just wanted to make him feel included. And, well… I didn't have anything else to tell him."

He didn't finish the thought, and one quick look at Sirius made it clear that the other wizard didn't understand what Peter was trying to say.

But James did. He looked slightly abashed as he met Peter's gaze.

Peter didn't have anything else to tell Remus because _he_ hadn't seen Sirius or James much, either. Remus wasn't the only one who felt as though the Marauders were drifting apart. It was hard, now that they were no longer in school, now that they didn't see each other every single day, didn't share a dormitory, didn't have classes and meals together. Their friendship had been based on personality and shared interests… but it had been based on proximity, too.

Sirius was still seething.

"Look," James said, running a hand through his hair and turning wearily back to Sirius, "the point is that Moony already wants to give up on the potion. If we tell him that Malfoy might go after him to get to you, how do you think he's going to respond?"

It was a rhetorical question, and Sirius didn't bother answering it. Remus would probably do something stupidly noble – like insist on leaving the country or breaking off their friendship.

"But this isn't even about him! He's just caught in the middle of it," Sirius protested.

"Evans' potion isn't about him, either," James said simply. "She's doing this for herself now. But he doesn't care about that." He hesitated a moment, then continued, "Besides, my Dad is looking into a way to get Evans a fair review. So maybe this won't ruin her life as much as she thinks it will."

There was a pause as Sirius and Peter both accepted this in silence, then Sirius said through clenched teeth, "Fine. So we won't tell Remus about this… _yet_. But we still need to figure out what to do about Malfoy and my brother."

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a particularly obvious answer to that issue.

* * *

><p>Some part of Peter had desperately hoped that Bellatrix Lestrange had been making idle threats. He knew it was a ridiculous hope, but he had still clung to the possibility that she would not actually go through with her plans. At Hogwarts they all made threats that far exceeded what they were actually capable of, but Bellatrix had been out of Hogwarts long before Peter had started, and he had a feeling that she had been different from the others.<p>

She only made threats she _could_ follow through on.

He caught sight of unruly dark curls disappearing along the cobblestones outside his father's shop. He pushed his way through the crowd after her, heart thumping in his chest. But just as the figure turned down one of the side streets and disappeared, he stopped himself. What was the point? He didn't know if it was Bellatrix, and even if turned out to be her – or perhaps _especially_ if it turned out to be her – why would he want to follow her? What would he say?

He turned around slowly and started walking back through the crowd. It was bright and sunny, and he squinted as he approached the shop, trying to see through the glare.

He heard the cries before he saw the flames or smelled the smoke.

"Fire! _Fire_!"

Several of the witches and wizards around him drew their wands and chaos broke out everywhere. Peter stumbled as he was pushed back and forth and carried along with the crowd away from his father's shop. He struggled, pushing frantically to get free, before finally tumbling sideways. The oxygen was knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground, and it took him a moment to clamber back to his feet.

Then he looked up and saw it. Plumes of fire, bright red and orange and so incredibly _hot_, shot out of the back of his father's shop. They sent wayward sparks raining down on the stones around the shop.

Mr. Pettigrew burst out of his shop, wand in hand as he faced the fire. A few other witches and wizards – good Samaritans of one type or another – came forward as well, their own wands drawn to combat the flames. Jets of water burst into the air, and then a blanket of something white and heavy drifted slowly down over the fire, smothering it.

"Dad!" Peter called, darting forward.

Mr. Pettigrew turned and grabbed at his son. "Peter," he said, sounding relieved. "Oh, thank Merlin you're alright."

Peter stared aghast at his father. The older man's face was covered in soot and his hair was slightly singed. "Dad?" he said softly, almost tentatively. "Dad? Are you…?" He glanced past his father and towards the shop. "What happened?"

"Store room caught fire," Mr. Pettigrew said in bewilderment. "No idea _how_. I lost a lot of the merchandise but at least no one was hurt." He paused, considering the building, then said in a brisk and business-like tone, "And none of the toys on display were destroyed. It'll take a lot to get us back to where we were, but we probably won't have to close for more than a day or two…"

Peter turned and saw Marcus Avery watching him from the other side of the street. He gave Peter a wink, and then disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

><p>He woke up to pain.<p>

It was everywhere, in every fiber of his being. It grated against his nerves, pounded through his veins, throbbed in his head. It left him weak and nauseous, gasping for breath and fighting back the urge to slip into the comfort of unconsciousness. He struggled through the darkness closing in on him and forced himself to climb slowly to his hands and feet.

"Ah… the werewolf wakens."

Remus turned as the room was suddenly filled with light. The door to the small, windowless prison that had been his cage for the previous night's transformation had been flung open, and a Healer stood in the doorway, surveying him with obvious disdain. Remus gave what he hoped was a disarming smile – though he suspected it was more of a grimace.

The Healer curled her lip. "How are you feeling?"

Remus glanced down at his body. There was blood on his clothing and a large gash spread across his chest. He was still able to stand, but his right leg was throbbing and the back of his head felt as though someone had taken a hammer to it.

He looked around the room. The cement walls and floor were dotted with blood. Clearly, he had tried to escape during the night, and when that hadn't worked, he had turned on himself.

But he was awake and coherent and able to stand. That was something, he supposed glumly.

"I asked you a question," the Healer snapped.

"I'm bleeding and my chest, leg, and head hurt," Remus answered immediately.

"But you're alive and you didn't bite anyone. Perhaps you should focus on that instead of complaining."

"I wasn't complaining…" Remus started, and then stopped, because what was the point?

The Healer turned on her heel and strode out of the room without another word, clearly expecting Remus to follow her. He attempted to do so, but the movement sent waves of pain up and down his leg. He stumbled, barely catching himself against the wall.

Perhaps he had misjudged just how badly injured he was

"Come _on_," the Healer snapped, looking back at him, "you're wasting my time."

"Sorry," Remus gasped. "I just need a… a minute…"

The Healer rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said coolly.

Remus sagged against the wall and took a moment to study the witch. She was young, perhaps only a few years older than him. She had dirty blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and a stern face that was all hard angles and edges. She didn't look friendly, but perhaps that was only because she was currently looking at him.

He took a deep breath. His chest was constricting, pressing in on him. Dots of blackness appeared in his vision and he blinked, trying to force them away.

After a few minutes, the Healer said in obvious irritation, "Are you ready now?"

Remus nodded slowly, wincing. "I'm ready," he murmured softly, and forced himself to follow her from the room.

"Margaret," a voice said, and both Remus and the Healer – Margaret, presumably – turned to face the newcomer. He was a taller, older man with graying hair and a grave expression. He paused, giving Remus and assessing look, then said, "Take the patient to room 304 for treatment."

Margaret looked surprised. "But sir…?" she started questioningly, and then stopped at the firm glare she received. "Yes, sir," she said quietly. Her expression soured as she glanced at Remus and said sharply, "This way." Once again, she did not wait for a response, but merely turned away and started walking briskly down the hallway. And once again, Remus was forced to limp after her.

"What's room 304?" he asked.

The Healer didn't answer. They entered a lift at the end of the hallway and Remus glanced at the number of the floor they were on. Sub-basement 3. He didn't even know St. Mungo's _had_ three sub-basements.

He didn't even know what a sub-basement _was_.

They got off on the third floor and Remus was immediately engulfed in a hug. "Moony, you look _horrible_."

"Padfoot!"

"What? He _does_ look horrible. See, I _told_ you we needed to get him a proper room."

Remus pulled away from whoever was hugging him, and he found himself gazing at James and Sirius. The first emotion he felt was complete and utter relief that he wasn't alone anymore. The second emotion was annoyance. What were they doing here? Hadn't he told them that he didn't want their pity? And what did Sirius mean about getting him a proper room? Hadn't he told them that he didn't want their charity?

"Mr. Lupin?"

Remus glanced past his two friends. There was Healer standing beyond them. She was older, and reminded him of Madam Pomfrey, except that she was looking at him with fear. Not loathing or disgust, just apprehension. As though she expected him to turn into a monster before her very eyes.

As uncomfortable as it was, _this_ Healer's fear was still preferable to Healer Margaret's disgust.

"If you would come this way?" she said, gesturing towards the room in front of him. The numbers 304 were engraved onto the front of the door, and as Remus walked into the room – trying not to flinch as the Healer very obvious shied away from him when he passed – he wondered just how much James had paid for this. It was a simple room, but a private one. There was a single bed in front of a window and several pain reliever and Dreamless Sleep potions on a table by the bed.

"Alright, Mr. Lupin, let's get some healing potions into you. I think a few hours of uninterrupted sleep will also help."

Remus stopped in the middle of the room and turned to glower at James. "I _told_ you not to do this," he said angrily.

"I know," James agreed. "And I didn't listen to you." Remus opened his mouth to argue, but James continued, "I'm with Evans on this one, Moony. Get over yourself. We're your friends, we're supposed to help you." He exchanged a significant look with Sirius as he added, "No matter what."

Sirius nodded emphatically.

Remus wanted to argue, but he was too tired and in too much pain to do so. He sank onto the edge of the bed and allowed the Healer to perform a few complex diagnostic spells. She did it with jerky, uneven movements, and that fear was still constant in her eyes and in the tension in her body.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that, without the Wolfsbane Potion, this could very well be all he had to look forward to for the rest of his life.

* * *

><p>"…and now he's <em>still<em> being a bloody stubborn idiot about it."

Lily gave James an amused look. For once, she didn't really mind that he was distracting her from studying. His concerns about Remus were well-founded, and so she was worried as well.

On the other hand, James was being a bit of a hypocrite, as she was quick to point out to him.

"You can't be surprised that Remus has his pride," Lily said pointedly. "He doesn't want to take charity from you." She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "You of all people should understand issues of _pride_."

James frowned at her. "That's not the same thing," he protested weakly.

Lily laughed outright. "You are right," she agreed. "It isn't the same thing. Remus' pride is keeping him from accepting your charity. Your pride made you think it was acceptable to prank anyone and everyone with no regard for how they felt about it."

James' frown deepened. "You're on _his_ side?" he demanded.

"Of course not," Lily answered. "I'm just saying… if you want to convince him to let you help, you at least have to recognize his point of view. No matter how much you don't like it. Anyway…" she looked down at the books piled in front of her and her own notes on the Wolfsbane potion, "we'll figure this out."

"We?" James asked.

Lily flushed slightly. "Well… yeah. I mean… we both want the same thing, right? So we're in this together. As… uh… friends."

"We're friends?" James asked in disbelief.

Lily looked at him sharply. "Aren't we?" she asked tentatively. They were finally getting along, and she didn't detest being around James anywhere near as much as she had just a couple months ago. They had spent a lot of time together without anyone yelling or screaming or storming away. Mostly. She actually… liked… spending time with him. Sort of.

That was friendship. Wasn't it?

"Yes," James said, giving her a boyish smile, "we're friends."

* * *

><p>Peter watched in silence as his father took inventory of what was left, what hadn't been destroyed by the fire. The profit they would lose from this would be tremendous, Peter could tell that much by the way his father's expression became more and more dismayed with every passing minute. But profit didn't matter to him anymore. Bellatrix Lestrange had not been making idle threats, and next time she decided to come after him…<p>

Peter shuddered. He didn't want to think about what would happen. He didn't want to think about what that madwoman could – and _would_ – do.

Mr. Pettigrew sighed and made a note on a piece of parchment. Then he said offhandedly, "I still don't understand how the fire even started."

Peter looked around the destroyed store room. A simple spell would have done it, but he couldn't tell his father that without breaking his silence on the subject, and who knew what would happen then?

Then again, did it really matter? The other three Marauders knew, and Bellatrix knew that they knew… It was only a matter of time before everything got worse, and he wasn't sure he could stand it. He hated this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach just as much as he hated the feeling of helplessness that had washed over him from the first moment the Slytherins had approached him.

There was nothing else for it – he had to tell the truth. It was the only way to salvage the situation.

"It wasn't an accident, Dad," he squeaked, his voice coming out much higher than intended.

Mr. Pettigrew looked at him in surprise. "Don't be ridiculous, Peter," he chided lightly, setting the roll of parchment down on the nearest box and pocketing his quill. "Why would anyone set fire to my store room on purpose?"

"It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and Marcus Avery and Dante Mulciber," Peter said. "They threatened to burn down your store. They're going after James and Sirius, and they're using you… us… to do it."

His father gazed at him for a long moment, then said once again, "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm _not_," Peter retorted, frustrated. Why wouldn't anyone take him seriously? He wasn't making this up and he wasn't blowing the entire thing out of proportion. The pureblooded Slytherins were behind this, he _knew_ it.

Again, Mr. Pettigrew remained silent as he considered what Peter had said. Finally, he let out a sigh and commented, "I doubt you could prove it, even if it is true." He looked at the charred remains of the latest batch of toys he had made, and added, "It's best just to move forward."

"But… Dad, they're going to come after you again," Peter protested, unable to believe that his father would so carelessly dismiss the threat. But his father didn't understand, didn't appreciate just how far Bellatrix and Malfoy and the others were willing to go. It was as though he couldn't see the danger so clearly right in front of him.

Mr. Pettigrew laughed. "Peter, I appreciate your concern, but what do you want me to do?"

Peter hesitated. He hadn't really thought through the implications of his argument. What _did_ he want his father to do?

"Go on holiday?" he suggested at last.

"To France?" Mr. Pettigrew said with a smile, clearly thinking about their previous conversation.

But Peter hadn't had any luck convincing his father to leave that time around, and it didn't seem like he would now, either.

"I can't just abandon the shop. This is everything I've worked for, everything I care about." Mr. Pettigrew extended his arms, gesturing to the ruined boxes of toys. "Your mother loved this shop."

Peter felt something in him crumble just a little bit. How could this shop be _everything_ his father cared about? His own life was in danger, and Peter's might be as well. Their safety was being threatened, their happiness could very well be destroyed…

And all his father cared about was a toy store?

"I can't leave," his father said again. "I won't. I'm not going to let anyone – least of all a group of _children_ – run me out of my own shop."

Peter grimaced inwardly. His father was seriously underestimating Bellatrix Lestrange by referring to her as a child. She was in her mid-twenties, and so decades younger than Mr. Pettigrew, but she was still powerful. And crazy.

Mr. Pettigrew picked up his roll of parchment and continued doing inventory.

* * *

><p>"You disappointed me, Pettigrew. I thought you had a better survival instinct."<p>

Peter didn't look up as Avery took the seat next to him on the park bench. What was the point of staring into the face of a man who was trying to ruin his life? It wasn't as though he didn't know what Avery looked like. It wasn't as though he couldn't close his eyes and see Avery's features in vivid detail.

"Sending Black to me was just stupid," Avery continued.

Peter stiffened slightly. "I didn't _send_ him," he said angrily.

Peter could hear the smirk in Avery's voice as the other wizard replied, "Is that so? Well, he certainly seemed determined to protect you when he confronted me. I suppose he thought you couldn't fight your own battles." There was a pause, and Peter looked up slowly. Then Avery added, "Well, it doesn't really matter whether you sent him or not. You weren't supposed to tell him _anything_."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Is that why my father's shop nearly burned to the ground? Because Sirius confronted you?"

"We told you what would happen if you squealed," Avery answered calmly, a hint of mocking in his eyes. "But it seems even threats against your father aren't enough to make you hold your tongue."

Peter didn't reply. He had specifically told Sirius and James that if they confronted Avery it could have very bad repercussions for him and his father. But did they listen? _Of course not_, Peter thought bitterly. Sirius was too self-involved to care about what happened to one of his _supposed_ best friends.

They hadn't even come to visit him since his father's shop had caught fire.

But maybe they didn't know. It was a charitable thought, and he wanted it to be true. It had been a full moon, and Remus had gone to St. Mungos, and no doubt James an Sirius had gone to make sure he was alright. They had been so caught up in worrying about Remus that they hadn't even noticed anything was wrong with Peter.

That thought made Peter's blood boil. His father's shop had nearly burned down, his father could have been seriously injured along with anyone else inside the store… and all because Sirius had confronted Avery. Why couldn't they have listened to him? Why couldn't they have accepted that their actions had consequences, and if they did something stupid, their friends might pay the price?

Sirius had made the same mistake by sending Snape into the Shrieking Shack during a full moon, nearly turning Remus into a murderer. Why hadn't he _learned_?

"Black seems quite determined to protect his friends and his brother," Avery said. A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. "But if you can't get him to back off…"

"He won't rejoin his family," Peter said firmly.

"My original deal still stands, Pettigrew," Avery said. "Give me information to split Black and Potter, and we'll let your father alone."

Peter shook his head. "Sirius won't betray James, won't stop being his friend," he said flatly. And it was true. There was nothing anyone could ever say or do that would cause Sirius to turn on his best mate.

"That wasn't the answer I wanted," Avery said coldly.

Peter was, once again, acutely aware of how much bigger and stronger Avery was than him.

He inhaled slowly. His father wasn't going to leave the country, wouldn't abandon his shop, and wouldn't admit that he might be in danger. Peter supposed he could go back to James and Sirius for help, but would they actually have anything to offer? Or would they rush off to confront Avery and just end up making things worse?

The bitterness in his stomach grew, spreading into every part of his body. They wouldn't listen to him. They _never_ listened to him. They never cared about him. He was just an add-on to their group, a little boy who tagged along after them and never quite fit in. And now Sirius was wrapped up in his own problems and James was spending so much time with Lily…

And Peter just didn't belong.

Avery rose to his feet. "I'll be seeing you, little Pettigrew," he sneered. "Unless you have anything useful to offer."

Peter stared down towards the ground. He ignored what Avery had said about Sirius trying to protect him, demanding that Avery back off. He forced himself to forget the recent efforts James had made to pull him back into the group. He pushed away thoughts of Remus, who was still treating him as a friend, without any sign of contempt.

What did any of it matter? His friends wouldn't help him, would only make things worse, and he had to protect his father.

Avery started walking away.

Peter looked up. "Wait."

Avery paused, looked back. "This had better be worth it," he growled.

Peter swallowed. "It is."


	21. I Miss All The Good Stuff

Chapter Twenty-One: I Miss All The Good Stuff

"Peter! Why didn't you tell us?" James demanded, bursting into Peter's room with Sirius and Remus on his heels.

Peter, who was sitting at his desk looking over some numbers and figures on a roll of parchment, started and jumped to his feet in surprise. He relaxed when he saw it was James, though his jaw was still clenched and his shoulders were still tense.

"Uh..." he managed, his throat dry.

"About your father's shop," Remus clarified.

"I didn't... I..." Peter started. "It was the full moon," he said finally, meeting Remus' gaze evenly. "I assumed you were... busy."

Remus gave a wan smile. "We still would have liked to know," he said. "You should have told us, we would have come sooner."

"Do you need anything, mate?" James asked. "Does your father need anything? We'll help any way we can."

Peter shook his head. "I think... my father is taking care of most of it." He gestured towards the parchment on his desk. "I was just going over some finances for him. It should be... everything should be fine." He was stumbling over the words, not able to say them right. His nervousness was making him practically incoherent.

"Was anyone hurt?" Sirius asked.

Peter shook his head again. "No. Everyone was lucky."

"Well, thank Merlin for that," Remus said. "Are you sure there isn't anything you need? I can help out with the repairs and restocking when I'm not at the bookstore." He looked at James and Sirius. "We all can."

Peter forced a smile, trying to show the gratitude that he didn't feel. He should feel it - should be thankful that they were here, offering to help him. But the emotion eluded him.

"Thank you," he said, "but I really think... we've got everything taken care of."

"Do they know what happened, what caused this?" Sirius asked, his tone dark and tight. It was clear to everyone in the room what he was really asking - was Avery behind this?

Peter shrugged. "No. No one knows," he lied.

* * *

><p>The smirk on Eliza Greengrass' face was enough to send shivers down Lily's spine, and she tensed in anticipation of whatever hurtful thing the blonde witch was going to say. Eliza saw this, and her smile grew as she approached Lily's work station.<p>

Emma paused in what she was doing and looked up, exchanging a worried look with Lily.

"So you've finally realized that you're worthless on your own?" Eliza commented, twirling one strand of perfect blonde hair around her finger. "You need a Potter to do everything for you?"

Lily frowned. "What are you on about?" she demanded. "Potter isn't doing anything for me."

That wasn't entirely true – James was helping her with the potion. But she was still doing most of the work, and she'd read the regulations of the program several times just to make sure there was no rule against asking for support. As long as she wasn't paying James and he wasn't an official Healer or potioneer, there was no reason why he couldn't help her.

Eliza laughed lightly. "Of course he's not," she drawled. She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a hushed whisper, and said, "It won't work. Potter's money can't buy you a spot in the next round."

"_What_?" Lily asked sharply. "What does his money have to do with anything?"

"Stop being so optimistic, Evans," Eliza retorted. "You're going to fail. Then you'll fall back down into the mud where you belong." Her gaze slid sideways to Emma, and she added, "Pick your friends more wisely next time, Vance."

Emma bristled. "I think I've done a good job of picking my friends already, thank you," she said coldly. "I don't need your input."

Eliza shrugged. "We'll see," she replied, her tone a half-threat, half-promise. She tapped her fingers twice on the wood of Lily's work bench. "Tell Potter to take his money and invest it in someone a little more worthwhile."

Lily felt her temper grow. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she snapped. "So either explain yourself or go bother someone else."

Eliza snorted. "I doubt _that_," she answered enigmatically. "The Potters might be blood traitors, but even they aren't stupid enough to try something as politically foolish as buying your success unless they get something out of it." Her eyes traveled up and down the length of Lily's body before she asked, "So tell me, what did you offer James Potter in return for his help?"

Lily flushed at the insinuation.

Eliza gave one final smirk, then turned away and practically flounced back to her work station.

Lily slanted a brief glance at Emma, expecting the other girl to look exasperated by Eliza's baseless accusations. But instead, Emma was giving Lily a puzzled and slightly accusatory stare. It took Lily a moment to correctly interpret the expression, and when she did, her own eyes narrowed angrily.

"You don't actually _believe_ her, do you?" she demanded.

Emma shrugged. "She believes it," she defended herself quietly.

"I would never do something like that," Lily spat. "It's cheating."

"Would James Potter?" Emma asked cautiously.

"Of course not," Lily retorted automatically. Then she hesitated before adding, "And even if he _was_ a cheater, I didn't ask him to do it, so why would he?"

"Does he know that you're worried working on the Wolfsbane potion will prevent you from getting to the next level?" Emma asked. "Maybe, if he knows how important it is to you, he would do it without you asking."

Lily pursed her lips. "James would never try to buy me a spot in the next round," she said coolly. "He has integrity. And he knows I would hate it if he did something like this."

Emma sighed, eyes darting towards Eliza. "Look, the idea of Potter interfering in an independent review, using his money to bypass the rules and regulations of a program as well-respected and prestigious as this one… that's a serious allegation."

"Oh, please," Lily said dismissively, "the wealthier families use their money to buy influence all the time. It can't be that serious of an allegation if everyone does it."

"They do it subtly," Emma responded, "and they don't get caught." Lily still looked skeptically, and Emma frowned. "I'm not saying that you asked the Potters to do this for you. I'm just saying that… this _is_ serious. It is the Potters. I just don't see Eliza Greengrass taking a chance at making this kind of allegation against someone with that much influence unless she was sure of her facts. I don't think the Greengrasses can afford to face the retribution of the Potters unless they have proof on their side."

Lily glanced over at Eliza. The blonde was no longer paying attention to her, but was instead focusing on her own potion. She seemed completely unaware of the turmoil her words had caused.

Lily chewed her lip worriedly. She had certainly never asked James to do this for her, and she wanted to believe that he wouldn't do it of his own initiative, either. But Emma seemed convinced that this was not an accusation Lily should just ignore, and that left her apprehensive.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

Emma cleared her throat. "Maybe you should just ask Potter? If it isn't true, you can at least warn him that the rumor is out there."

* * *

><p>"You <em>what<em>?"

The sound of Lily's voice lifted in rage reminded James so much of Hogwarts that he nostalgically smiled at the memory. But she _wasn't_ smiling, not even a little bit, and that dampened his own amusement. The fury and fire burning in her eyes was a sign of just how angry she was, and his own temper flared in defense.

"It's not what it sounds like, Evans! I'm not trying to buy you a spot."

Lily's lips flattened into a thin line. "Then what exactly are you trying to do?" she snarled. "Ruin _my_ reputation? Destroy any chance I might have of being taken seriously as a potioneer?"

"I just wanted you to get a fair review. That's all."

"That's all? That's _all_?" Lily shook her head, red hair flying. "You can't just use your money to get whatever you want, Potter. That makes you just like the Malfoys and Greengrasses and…"

"I am _nothing_ like them!" James seethed. Lily scoffed and moved away from him, and he reached out immediately to grab her arm. "_Don't_ compare me to them."

Fire sparkled in her eyes as she retorted, "Then don't act like them." She wrenched her arm out of his grip and said, "I don't need your help on this potion anymore. You should leave."

His eyes widened. "How can you think I am like them?" he asked softly, disbelief coloring his voice. He had thought that they were making progress. Just a couple days ago she had declared them friends. And now she was implying that he was no better than Malfoy?

Why couldn't she see the difference between them?

"You don't get it, Potter," Lily said in a quieter tone. "If this gets out, it will completely ruin my reputation. No one will think that I can make anything of myself on my own. I will always be that girl who took the Potter's charity. I don't want that." She sank into the nearest chair and rested her elbows on the kitchen table. "I never wanted that."

"I wasn't trying to make you into that person," James answered honestly.

"Yeah… but you _did_." Lily blinked up at him. "You should go," she said again.

"Right," he said, feeling a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. Lily was no longer looking at him, and there didn't seem to be anything else to say, so he turned and walked from the room, silently letting himself out of her flat.

* * *

><p>It came as a column in the section reserved mostly for society gossip. The journalist, one Rita Skeeter, was young and ambitious and known for the scathing and scandalous articles she wrote.<p>

She was also known for stretching the truth.

But no one seemed to care if her stories were full of falsehoods. They were still read and discussed, and the gossip still spread.

_Interference in the Master Medicinal Potioneer Program?_

_The Master Medicinal Potioneer Program has long been known for its rigorous standards and the excellence of its alumni. The independent program is successful in part because it maintains its autonomy from the Ministry and St. Mungo's, and it is therefore able to escape political influence and the power of trends and fads. But can it escape the influence of money?_

_Charlus Potter, the current patriarch of the Potter family, has used the substantial Potter wealth to manipulate matters at the Ministry. Although Potter holds no official position at the Ministry, this has not stopped him from forcing through legislation that he supports, and neither has it stopped him from buying jobs for his friends – even against the wishes of those who actually work at the Ministry. Many qualified witches and wizards have lost out on career opportunities because of Potter's whims._

_Commenting from his estate in Norfolk, Cyrene Nott expressed his frustrations, "I didn't want Laurel Harvin anywhere in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, let alone in the Auror Division. But he had Potter's money, and now he's filled the Division with pointless bureaucracy, making it nearly impossible for anyone to be efficient. How are the Aurors supposed to protect the public if they are too busy filling out paperwork?"_

_Margaret Mead, a vivacious and brilliant young Healer at St. Mungo's, agrees. "And he's taught his son to do the same. Just this week, James Potter used his money to take a hospital room away from a young girl who had been severely burned by dragon fire and was in critical condition. He wanted one of his friends to have the room for treatment of superficial lacerations that could have been easily treated at home. The poor girl was suffering horribly, but the young Mr. Potter didn't care."_

_How long will the Potters continue to exert their undue influence? And just how far will their arrogance spread?_

_Just this week, Charlus Potter attempted to buy a spot in the second round of the Master Medicinal Potioneer Program for one Lily Evans, a friend of James' from Hogwarts. This reporter has it on good authority that Miss Evans would never make it to the second round of the program on her own merits._

"_We were all surprised when Evans was even accepted into the first round," says Portia Parkinson who attended Hogwarts at the same time as Miss Evans. "She was never good at potions. But Potter has been infatuated by her for years, so it's not a surprise that she'd be able to convince him to help her."_

_Such cheating will, of course, compromise the integrity of the Program, and no doubt the Ministry and St. Mungo's will want to investigate the accusations._

There were three more paragraphs, but James couldn't bring himself to read them. He snatched up the _Daily Prophet_ and flung it into the fireplace, watching with only a tiny bit of satisfaction as the newspaper went up in flames. He wished he could do more, wished he could destroy every copy of the column ever printed.

He wished he could destroy Rita Skeeter's career.

In less than a page of print, she had managed to slander the Potters and destroy Lily's reputation.

James had a feeling Lily wouldn't be speaking to him for a very long time – if ever.

But this wasn't what he had wanted, and he couldn't understand how it had happened. His father had been using money and prestige to influence events at the Ministry for years, and nothing like this had ever happened. Besides, Mr. Potter had said he was going to ask about this particular topic discreetly, and James just didn't think his father would be careless enough to get caught.

It didn't make sense.

His father had left earlier, apparently heading to the Ministry to do damage control. James could only hope it would be enough – but he had his doubts.

The flames in the fireplace suddenly flashed green, and Vanessa's head appeared floating within them. She smiled when she saw him, but the smile did not reach her eyes. "Can I come over?" she asked tentatively, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

James nodded and waived his wand at the fireplace, lowering the wards and allowing her to step through.

She came through gracefully. Most people tumbled out of fireplaces, or had to stoop and bend at awkward angles to make it through the odd mode of transportation. But she stepped out of the flames casually, easily lowering her head to avoid hitting it against the chimney, and dusted the soot from her clothes.

She gave him a scrutinizing look, and said sympathetically, "I take it from your expression that you've seen the _Prophet_ this morning."

James nodded, lips pursed. "I did," he snapped, biting off the words. The anger was still bubbling inside of him, threatening to explode, but Vanessa didn't flinch away from his wrath. James ran a hand through his hair and turned away from her. He started pacing.

She asked, "How much of it was true?"

He froze, then spun on her. "You really think we use our money like _that_?" he demanded viciously.

She met his gaze steadily. "Yes," she answered evenly.

James hadn't been expecting such a blunt answer, and the defensive words caught in his throat before he could spit them out.

Vanessa narrowed her eyes, apparently reading in his expression the things he hadn't said. "Slytherins aren't the only ones who know how to play this particular game, James," she said softly. "Did your father get Laurel Harvin a job at the Ministry?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him?" James retorted mulishly.

Vanessa gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm trying to _help_ you," she said.

James opened his mouth to reply, then stopped and shook his head. He let out a long breath and muttered, "Sorry. It's just… been a really lousy morning." He walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out one of the chairs before collapsing into it.

"It's not going to get better," Vanessa stated flatly. "You're really in this now, James. So you've got to know who your friends are."

"Would that be a subtle way of telling me to stop snapping at you every time I'm upset?" James asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Vanessa quirked a smile. "I didn't think it was all that subtle," she replied.

James nodded absently. "I don't know if my Dad got Mr. Harvin a job at the Ministry. He's a friend of my Dad's from Hogwarts, but I don't know him all that well," he said. "I did get Remus a room at St. Mungo's, but no one told me that I was taking it away from anyone." Guilt twisted painfully in his chest and stomach. He wanted what was best for Remus, but could he really use his money to help his friends if it came at the cost of an innocent child's prolonged suffering?

Vanessa laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, James. _Of course_ you didn't take the room away from anyone. It's _St. Mungo's_, do you really think they would run out of places to treat people?" She smiled bemusedly at him. "It's just Rita Skeeter being… well, herself."

"Do you know her?"

"Not well," Vanessa replied. "We met last year at the _Daily Prophet_ Christmas Party." She paused, then said delicately, "It didn't go well."

"Oh?" James prompted.

"She thought we were similar because we both published scandalous stories about famous people," Vanessa said wryly. "I… disagreed."

"What did you say?" James inquired, amused despite the gravity of the current situation.

"That I was a real reporter who wrote stories based on facts and actual investigating and she was a cheap hack who made up scandal because she wasn't good enough to do actual reporting."

"Hm… I can see why she might not have liked that," James remarked casually.

Vanessa's nostrils flared. "She gives the rest of us a bad name," she said angrily, a flush rising in her cheeks. "I put time and effort into my stories. But because of reporters like her, everyone assumes that I'm just in it for the scandal, that I'm willing to do anything to sell my articles. Even lie."

James nodded slowly, then asked, "If St. Mungo's never runs out of rooms, why would this Skeeter woman write that? Wouldn't she know that people would know that she was lying?" He paused, frowning. "Did that make sense?"

"People don't care. They see an accusation of an innocent child suffering and stop thinking rationally," Vanessa replied. "It's one of the first things you learn as a journalist – children sell, and injured children sell best."

"That's… horrible," James breathed.

"Yeah. It's also true." Vanessa took a seat across from James and eyed him warily, then asked, "Are you trying to buy Lily Evans a spot in the next round of the potions program?"

"_No_!" was James' immediate response. Vanessa raised an eyebrow at him, and he took a breath, calmed down. "No," he said again, his voice softer. "I just…" He paused, trying to think up the right words. "I just wanted to see if it was possible to… counter… the prejudice she was going to face. Both as a Muggleborn and because she was working on the Wolfsbane potion."

Vanessa pursed her lips. "That sounds an awful lot like buying her a spot," she said.

"It's not the same thing," James protested, but he was starting to doubt that assertion. Was there a difference between what he had actually done and what the article was saying? He was only trying to buy her fairness, but he was combating the prejudice she faced by exerting his own pureblood influence, and somehow it just seemed wrong.

"Maybe not, but it will still look like it," Vanessa replied pointedly. She leaned forward. "This is serious. They have proof, James. A lot of it is lies, but some of what is in this article has to be real or those quoted would never take the chance of saying it."

"Proof?"

"Someone _knows_ that your father is doing this. Maybe someone he spoke to?"

"That doesn't make any sense," James said. "My father wouldn't… he wouldn't get _caught_. He would know the right people to speak to."

"Who else knows?"

"No one," James answered immediately. "I mean, I mentioned it to Sirius and Peter, but no one else."

"And neither of them would tell?" Vanessa asked gently.

James' first instinct was to deny the possibility, but he hesitated, contemplating the question. Sirius wouldn't tell anyone intentionally, but would it accidentally slip out? It seemed unlikely – Sirius had to know how important silence was on this particular issue – but sometimes his temper got the better of him. Particularly when Regulus was involved.

Eliza Greengrass had been the one to mention the entire thing to Lily, and she was dating Regulus. Could she have learned it from him?

James shoved the thought away. It wasn't possible, Sirius wouldn't be _that_ reckless. He'd done stupid things in the past, but he'd learned from them, learned that his actions had consequences and he had to be careful. Right?

And then there was Peter. James was certain that Avery was still after him. And Peter had been distant lately – or maybe it was that James had been distant from Peter. The friction between the group wasn't gone, but James thought that it was mostly between Sirius and Peter. Maybe he should have done more to fix it, but Sirius wasn't someone that could be rushed into things. He had to reach conclusions at his own pace and in his own time. And Peter…

Well, Peter didn't seem all that eager to fix anything.

But neither of them would do this to James.

"No," James said finally. "Neither of them would tell." He rubbed at his eyes, then said angrily, "I'm done with this."

"With what?" Vanessa asked, surprised and bewildered by the sudden change in topic and tone.

"This using money to buy what I want," James said. He shoved his chair back, jumping to his feet again. "This behind the scenes influence, this… this politics. I'm done with it."

"You're always going to have influence," Vanessa argued, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow propped on the table. "You can't stop being who you are, James, and who you are is a Potter. _The_ Potter heir."

James gave a dark chuckle in response, but said nothing. He might be a Potter, but he didn't see why he had to play these games. It suited his father, and maybe every single one of his ancestors, but it just wasn't James' style. He was far too much of a Gryffidnor for that. He preferred everything to be out in the open, preferred public arguments to private manipulations.

Writing the _Daily Prophet_ article… that was the sort of thing he liked. He'd used his money and his influence to get it published, he could admit to that much. But he'd also put his name on it, made sure everyone knew what he had done. He was willing to take the consequences of that. At least he had stood up for what he believed in, at least he hadn't hidden his actions.

It was better to allow people to confront him about his actions and beliefs. It avoided any suspicion of impropriety, avoided the chance that he'd be viewed like the Malfoys and Lestranges and their legislation banning Muggleborns from the Ministry.

Vanessa was staring at him with a calculating look in his eyes, but when she saw him staring back at her, she smiled tightly.

"I'm done with this," he said again.

* * *

><p>"Can you believe him? Can you believe he would do that?" Lily muttered furiously, pacing back and forth across the length of the kitchen floor. Mary was seated at the table, watching her with an amused gaze, but Lily couldn't find anything funny in the situation.<p>

James had done more damage to her reputation than even she had originally realized.

The table was piled with letters. A few particularly nasty ones came from some Slytherins that had been in her year at Hogwarts. But most were from people she didn't even know, names she didn't recognize. And they didn't know _her_, but they still felt the need to tell her just how despicable they thought she was for using the Potters' legacy to advance her own career.

"No one will ever take me seriously," Lily bemoaned. "All because of _Potter_. Can you _believe_ him?"

"Well… yeah," Mary said.

Lily stopped her pacing and gave Mary an incredulous look. "_What_?"

Mary shrugged. "I can believe that James would do something like that," she said. Lily continued to gape at her, and she sighed. "Come on, Lils. It's not like he was trying to hurt you. This article," she glanced towards the _Daily Prophet_ with a grimace of distaste, "was never his intention."

"Well, obviously," Lily snapped. "The article hurt him, too."

Mary tilted her chin up. "We've had this conversation before," she said quietly, "with Emmaline Vance. You're jumping to conclusions and prejudice too quickly… again."

Lily paused. The part of her that was bubbling with anger wanted to ignore Mary's words, but Mary was far too good a friend to be blown off. If she had something to say – something she thought Lily really needed to hear – she wouldn't give up until she'd made her point.

Lily leaned against the wall of the kitchen. Emma's opinions on werewolves had bothered Lily, but Lily's response – to compare Emma to Slytherins like Eliza Greengrass – had been prejudiced as well. Could she also be too hastily judging James?

"I'm not saying what he did was smart," Mary continued softly, "or even the appropriate thing to do. But…" She leaned forward intently, fixing her gaze on Lily's face, "Lils, are you going to move on to the next stage of the program? Are you going to get a fair review?"

Lily felt her insides clench as she answered truthfully, "I really doubt it."

"You're being discriminated against because you're a Muggleborn, and you're being discriminated against because you refuse to believe that werewolves are monsters," Mary pressed. "James is just trying to fight that prejudice with the weapons that he has."

"I don't want to be that girl," Lily said. "I don't want to… I want to succeed on my own merits, not because someone with money, influence, and pure blood _bought_ success for me."

"Was James really trying to buy success for you?" Mary questioned. "Or was he trying to buy you the chance to succeed on your own merits?"

Lily slumped further against the wall. "He just doesn't get it," she murmured. "He doesn't understand what it is like to be looked down upon, to be considered filth. I want…" She stopped, the words getting stuck in her suddenly dry throat. "I want to prove that I am good enough, that I _don't_ need a pureblood to fight my battles for me."

"Yeah," Mary agreed, "I know the feeling." Her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "You're not the only Muggleborn in the room." She got up and crossed the kitchen quickly. Squeezing Lily's shoulder, she said, "But the world isn't a perfect place, and sometimes… as much as you don't want to… you have to ask people for help."

"It's not the help I don't want to accept," Lily muttered, although that wasn't entirely true. It galled her to have to rely on anyone, especially someone as annoyingly brilliant, wealthy, and pure-blooded as James. But the real problem was that it didn't feel like help.

It felt like cheating.


	22. And When I Look Up, I Trip Over Things

Chapter Twenty-Two: And When I Look Up, I Just Trip Over Things

"Miss Evans," the man with silver-gray hair and a hard expression said, "please, take a seat."

He gestured towards a chair across from his desk, and Lily slipped into it nervously. She'd arrived at her workstation that morning to find a notice from Healer Lanwick on her desk, telling her she'd been summoned to this office. She'd never been here before – she didn't think _anyone_ from the program had been here before.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked.

"Yes, sir," Lily said, resting her hands in her lap. "You're Healer Akhlys. You're the Head of the Master Medicinal Potioneer Program."

"I am," Healer Akhlys replied.

Lily couldn't quite place his accent. It was clipped, precise – but it had a hint of something Eastern European in it.

He reached into one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Lily cringed inwardly. She had hoped that this meeting would have nothing to do with the article, but every rational part of her brain had pointed out that there really was no other reason that a man of his importance would wish to speak to her.

"These accusations are quite serious," he said. He pressed the tips of his fingers together and surveyed Lily. "Before my grandfather took over as Head, this program was a joke. The titles it conferred were meaningless. But he turned it into something we could be proud of, and when he passed it along to my mother, she turned it into the prestigious program it is today." He leaned forward. "I don't like to see the reputation they created ruined."

"I did not…" Lily started, but the Healer lifted a hand to stop her.

"I am not interested in your excuses," he said flatly. There was no sympathy in his eyes. "We cannot have even the slightest hint of impropriety. Too much is at stake."

"Are you…" Lily started, then stopped, her mouth suddenly dry. "Are you kicking me out?"

Healer Akhyls considered this, then said, "I want you to think… really _think_, Miss Evans… is this the right place for you?"

"It is, sir," Lily said firmly. "I don't need to think about that. I _know_."

Healer Akhyls frowned. "It would be a shame for you to waste your time," he said, and the implication of that statement was clear.

They'd already made a decision – she wasn't going on to the next round.

* * *

><p><em>Charlus Potter Accused of Buying Wizengamot Verdict.<em>

James didn't even bother reading the article. He knew the case – Mundungus Fletcher had gotten into trouble with the Ministry, and James' father had smoothed things over before it could spiral out of control. The headline was wrong, and the article probably was, too. Mr. Potter hadn't bought the Wizengamot verdict, he'd prevented the trial from happening in the first place.

It didn't matter if the details were correct or not. Interfering with the Wizengamot was a serious charge, and people would believe it merely because it was in the newspaper.

The Potters were under attack.

"This is ridiculous," Sirius growled. "I am going to beat them into a bloody pulp."

"Who are you going to target?" James asked wearily. "Avery? Malfoy? Regulus? Rita Skeeter?"

"All of them," Sirius spat. "Every single one." He shook his head angrily and started pacing, his entire body shaking with pent-up rage. "I want to _do_ something."

"I know, mate," James agreed. "And we will figure out a way to strike back. We just need to… we just need to be careful."

"Be careful?" Sirius seethed. "What we need to do is teach those bloody Slytherins why they shouldn't mess with any of us."

James pressed his lips into a flat line and said quietly, "Mr. Pettigrew's shop caught fire, Padfoot, and no matter what Peter says, we both know it wasn't an accident."

Sirius paused. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I _know_." He ran a hand through his hair, his movements sharp and filled with frustration. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"It wasn't your fault," James said, because he could tell by Sirius' expression that his friend was feeling the same guilt that James felt. It was hard not to – Mr. Pettigrew's shop had nearly been destroyed because of Peter's friendship with them.

Sirius scowled. "Right," he said skeptically.

Peter had told them that Avery and Bellatrix Lestrange had threatened the shop if Peter didn't spy on his friends, and Sirius had then had multiple confrontations – first with Avery and then Regulus – after which the shop had burned almost to the ground. There was one obvious conclusion to draw from that, and it was hard to bear the possibility that the fire had been a direct response to Sirius' actions.

But James had spent a lot of time thinking this through, and had come to the conclusion that there was nothing they could have done to prevent that fire except go back in time seven years and not befriend Peter. Whether Sirius had confronted Avery or not, the Slytherins would have eventually grown tired of trying to bully Peter and would make good on their threats.

Or maybe they would have merely done it for fun.

After all, Bellatrix Lestrange was criminally insane.

"I can't believe little Wormtail stood up to them," Sirius said finally.

"Well, he must have, or they wouldn't have attacked his father's livelihood," James replied. He hesitated, then added, "We need to smooth things over with him."

"Yeah, well…" Sirius flashed a cold grin, "maybe I'll invite him along to watch while I beat up Avery."

James rubbed his eyes. "We need to be careful," he said again. "Don't forget what Malfoy threatened. He's got too much on Remus, and we can't take the chance that he'll go to the Ministry or the _Daily Prophet_ with what he knows. He'll ruin Remus. And he'll use that information to ruin you, too."

"_What_?"

James and Sirius both spun around at the sound of the new voice, James jumping from his seat and knocking his chair over in surprise. It clattered to the floor, but James paid it no attention, because Remus was standing in the doorway, his face white with shock.

"Moony…" Sirius started uneasily.

"What do you mean?" Remus asked. "What does Malfoy know about me? And how is he going to use it against you?"

* * *

><p>"Evans… Lily, wait! Come on… <em>Lily<em>!"

"Get away from me, Potter! And it's Evans to you."

"Come on, just talk to me…"

James reached out and grabbed Lily's arm, ignoring the looks he was receiving from the other witches and wizards on the street. He didn't care that he was about to have a very public fight – he'd never cared about that, and plenty of his yelling matches with Lily had occurred surrounded by Hogwarts students.

He just needed Lily to slow down long enough for him to explain.

Although he really had no idea what he would say.

Lily yanked her arm from his grasp and snapped, "Just leave me _alone_, Potter!" Her face was covered in red splotches, a sign of just how livid she was.

Confronting Lily in the middle of Diagon Alley was probably not the smartest thing to do, but she hadn't returned any of his letters or allowed him back into her flat. He'd caught sight of her stepping out of the apothecary and instinctively rushed over, determined to take this opportunity to talk to her.

And she was equally determined not to let him.

"You can't think I ever wanted this," James protested. "I didn't think…"

"No, you _didn't_ think! You just did what you wanted without any concern for the way it might effect _me_," Lily shot back. She pressed her lips together in frustration. "You've ruined any chance I had…"

"I was just trying to help!"

"Yeah, well…" Lily stepped further back, away from him. "You didn't help. You just made things worse."

She looked exhausted. It took him a moment to realize that. Underneath the flush of her fury, her skin was too pale, too sallow. There were dark circles underneath her eyes and her lips had lost their usual rosy color.

"What happened?" James asked.

Lily shrugged one shoulder. "Exactly what you would expect. I've received hate mail from people I've never even met. I…" She stopped, biting off the words, and he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. "It's over, Potter. Everything I wanted… it's over. Because of that stupid article. So you've really done enough damage."

"I didn't…"

"Just go _away_, Potter!"

"Lover's quarrel?"

James turned at the sound of the mocking voice, and narrowed his eyes in fury at the sleek-haired wizard approaching them.

"Malfoy," he said disdainfully.

"Hello, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said. His gaze slid past James and settled on Lily. "And Evans, too."

James bristled and moved ever so slightly to the left, positioning himself between Lily and Malfoy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily glare at him, clearly incensed at the implication that she would need his protection. But he just couldn't help it – he knew what Malfoy was capable of, and he didn't like considering the possibility that Lily had become a target because of James' feelings for her.

He curled his lip. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, nothing," Malfoy said casually, waving one hand as though to dismiss James' anger. He was holding a cane in the other hand. It was slender and black, with a silver snakehead at the top.

"Then leave us alone," James said.

"Ah, Potter… where are your manners?" Malfoy asked with a light laugh that sent shivers down James' spine. "Has Evans' uncouth ways made you forget your own upbringing?"

"Uncouth?" Lily demanded.

"My condolences on the _Daily Prophet's_ article," Malfoy continued, ignoring Lily. "It is _so_ unpleasant to have to face the consequences of your sordid actions, isn't it?"

"Sordid?" James repeated. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Ah, but I am certain that interfering with independent training programs is frowned upon," Malfoy countered.

A crowd had gathered around the three of them. Most of Lily and James' argument had been witnessed already – would that end up in the _Daily Prophet_ also? – but the debate with Malfoy was drawing even more attention. Diagon Alley really was not the best place to have what should have been a private conversation.

"I didn't do anything wrong," James said again, "and I wasn't trying to buy Lily a spot in the program. She's a better potioneer than anyone else there and could easily get into the next stage on her own."

"Hm… so your father didn't speak to anyone about her?" Malfoy asked delicately.

James couldn't answer that truthfully, but lying wouldn't help, either. He cursed inwardly. How had he let Malfoy get the upper hand so quickly?

Fortunately, he didn't have to respond, because Lily stepped forward and said furiously, "And how many times has your family bought someone a job at the Ministry, Malfoy? How many times have you used your influence to get what you want?"

Lucius pursed his lips. "Careful, Evans," he cautioned, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "You don't want to slander my family."

The name Malfoy carried enough weight for that tone to usually get Malfoy exactly what he wanted: fear. James knew that going up against a Potter was harder for the blonde wizard, because the Potter named carried weight, too, and James wouldn't be easily intimidated by implied threats. But Lily didn't have the protection of blood status, money, or family influence, and _that_ tone should have scared her.

Maybe it did. But if she felt fear, she didn't show it.

"It's not slander if it's _true_," Lily retorted.

Malfoy stepped forward, his hand tightening around his snakehead cane.

"Back off, Malfoy," James snapped defensively, already tensing. The rational part of his mind told him that Malfoy would not start an actual duel in the middle of Diagon Alley, but something about the way the other wizard was leering at Lily made James' stomach clench.

"It's nice to see you have Potter to fight your battles for you," Malfoy said maliciously, not taking his eyes off of Lily.

"I can fight my own battles, thank you," Lily replied coolly.

"Hm… can you?" Malfoy drawled, his tone colored with disbelief. "Well… let's see if you make it to the next stage of the program without his help."

He didn't wait for either James or Lily to respond, but rather started walking away. The crowd split, people scrambling to get out of his path.

James turned back to Lily, his mouth open and a comforting comment already partially formed on his tongue, when he noticed that she looked dangerously close to tears. He had not expected the confrontation with Malfoy to rattle her so much, and for a moment, he had no idea what to say.

"Evans?"

Lily blinked hurriedly and swiped at her eyes. "Just go, Potter," she said tiredly.

"Hey, Evans," James said, moving quickly to block her path as she attempted to leave, "you can't let Malfoy get to you. You'll do fine in the program, you just need to…"

"No, I _won't_," Lily snapped. "Don't you get it, Potter? I _won't_ do fine. I won't…" She glared at him furiously. "It's over. Done."

"What do you mean? How can it be over already, you still have another week…" James stopped, abruptly cutting the words off as a thought occurred to him. "They didn't… they didn't drop you from the program, did they?"

"Not in so many words, no," Lily said bitterly. "I think they're hoping I'll drop out in disgrace, and save them the unpleasantness of actually having to kick me out." She wiped at her eyes again, brushing away a few lingering tears. "It doesn't matter if I drop out or stay in to finish this round. Healer Akhyls did make it _abundantly_ clear that I wouldn't go on to the next stage."

"That's not fair," James protested.

Lily narrowed her eyes at him and scoffed, "Life isn't fair, Potter." Her tone became colder, more resentful, "You have _no idea_ what life is like for those of us not blessed with your status, and maybe in whatever perfect land you inhabit, everything always works out just the way you want it. But I assure you, the real world isn't fair."

"I'm not the enemy here, Evans!"

"Well, you certainly aren't an ally," Lily shot back. She started walking away from him, and he followed behind her quickly, refusing to give up.

"I'm sorry," James said. He wasn't sure how many more times he could apologize, wasn't sure how he could convince her that he really _was_ sorry.

Or maybe she already knew that, and just didn't care.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" Lily practically snarled, pausing just long enough to shoot him an annoyed glare.

"Not until you _listen_ to me!"

The crowd had dissipated after Malfoy's departure. James caught a few glances being tossed his way as he continued hurrying after the irate redhead, but for the most part, people left them alone.

"What could you possibly have to say?" Lily demanded.

"I was only trying to help you! It's not like I had any idea that this would happen," James said. "I _am_ on your side. In case you haven't noticed, they've come after _my_ family, too!"

"I don't need your help," Lily said.

"It wasn't just about you," James answered, taking a breath and forcing himself to calm down. "I was trying to fight prejudice. Against Muggleborns and against werewolves. I was trying to do the right thing. For me." He glanced around to make sure that they weren't being overheard, then lowered his voice and said, "And for Remus. This was about helping him as much as it was about helping you."

Lily took a step backwards and ran a hand through her hair, seemingly unsure what to say. Her expression was a mix of anger and resignation.

Finally, her shoulders sagged and she said, "I know. I know. But…" She averted her gaze. "It's over, James. This program, the Wolfsbane potion… it's all over."

* * *

><p>"Why, Vanessa Lovely, you look quite depressed."<p>

Vanessa glanced up, her lips curling in disdain. "Rabastan Lestrange," she said. "Should I be worried that you know who I am?"

Lestrange pulled out the barstool next to her and sat down. "After you tricked information out of Morrison and then pulled that little stunt with the _Daily Prophet_ article, some of us made a point of finding out just who you were." He glanced around the pub. "Come to drink your sorrows away?"

Vanessa shook her head. "None of your business," she said curtly.

"Now, now… don't be like that," Lestrange replied. "I'm just trying to be friendly. Perhaps you need a shoulder to cry on?" His eyes traveled up and down the length of her body, and then he added lasciviously, "Or maybe we could do something else to take your mind off whatever is troubling you?"

Vanessa slid off the barstool, appalled at the implications. "Not a chance," she snapped, turning to stalk away.

Lestrange caught her wrist. "You must realize that holding on to Potter is pointless," he said in a low voice. "He and his family are going down. Do you really want him to drag you down, too?"

Vanessa yanked her arm out of his grasp. "You won't beat him that easily," she retorted.

Lestrange smiled. "We'll see," he replied smugly. He paused, giving her a contemplative look, then said with a smirk, "But it is so nice of you to hold onto your loyalty for him. Particularly when he seems so willing to put his own reputation on the line for _Evans_. How does it feel to be second best?"

Vanessa couldn't stop the look of pain from washing over her features. She didn't want to believe Lestrange, but some part of her had already accepted this. With James, she would always come in second to Lily Evans.

"Seems like I hit a nerve," Lestrange said. He leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial whisper, "What if I told you I could make sure Lily Evans was out of the picture?"

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

* * *

><p>Peter had honestly thought being on the receiving end of Sirius' temper was the worst he could possibly feel.<p>

James' temper burned bright and fast and faded just as quickly as it appeared. Remus didn't have a temper, not really. But Sirius - when Sirius got angry, his anger lasted. He could hold onto grudges far better than anyone else Peter had ever known, and there had been times at Hogwarts when Sirius had hated someone for so long that he'd eventually forgotten what had triggered his rage in the first place.

When Sirius had decided that Peter had betrayed his friends, when Sirius had gotten angry...

Some part of Peter had assumed that Sirius would never forgive him, or that if forgiveness did come, it would be reluctant and begrudging and occur several years in the future. And James did nothing to cool Sirius' temper, just stood there and let Sirius yell, and Peter had truly believed that this was the worst he could feel.

He had been wrong.

"Firewhiskey?" Peter asked slowly, taking the bottle from Sirius. "Uh... thanks?"

"I know you have a lot of work to do at your father's shop and so probably can't go out to a pub," Sirius explained. He fished two small glasses out of his pocket and displayed them with a flourish. "So I brought the pub to you."

He walked past a stunned Peter and started towards the Pettigrews' sitting room. It wasn't a large house, and the sitting room was crammed with oddly shaped furniture and boxes of toys that hadn't been delivered to the shop yet. Sirius didn't seem to mind this, and simply settled himself onto the sofa, placing the glasses on the coffee table before him.

"Prongs wanted to come," Sirius said, "but he just found out that Evans was told she wasn't going on to the next round, and he's... I dunno..." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Alright, so I have no idea what he's doing at the moment. Fretting, probably."

"Evans didn't make it to the next round?" Peter asked in trepidation. Did James know who had told Avery about the Potters interference in the program? Did they know that _Peter_ was the reason Lily's dreams had been crushed?

Sirius didn't seem to notice his worry. He gave a laconic shrug. "Apparently. And Prongs thinks it is all his fault, and he's trying to figure out how to make it right." He rolled his eyes and said with a snort, "Even when he's dating someone else, all he can think about is Evans."

Peter sat down on the chair opposite Sirius and placed the bottle of Firewhiskey on the table.

Sirius' expression turned grave. "Also, Moony knows about Malfoy's threats."

Peter blanched. "Is he... how did he... handle it?"

Sirius shook his head, a far away look in his eyes. "Not well," he said simply. He didn't elaborate, but he didn't need to. Peter knew just how insecure Remus was, and how much their quiet and bookish friend hated that his werewolf status was occasionally a burden for the people he cared about. Now that Remus knew about Malfoy's threats, those insecurities would be magnified.

Peter looked at the liquid swirling inside the bottle of Firewhiskey and tried to stop the guilty thoughts that rose in his mind.

Avery had been thrilled when Peter told him about Mr. Potter's actions regarding the potioneer program. He'd laughed aloud and clapped Peter on the shoulder, declaring the Gryffindor to be a brilliant spy. He'd gone on to say that Malfoy and Lestrange might find more uses for Peter.

Peter hadn't wanted this. It wasn't supposed to happen this way - he wasn't supposed to betray his friends.

Sirius reached out and opened the bottle, pouring a little Firewhiskey into each glass. He pushed a glass across the table towards Peter and then lifted his own.

"Cheers, mate," he said.

Peter obediently picked up his glass and clinked it against Sirius'.

"To Wormtail," Sirius said, "brave enough to stand up to the Slytherins."

"What?" Peter practically gasped.

Sirius downed his Firewhiskey in one gulp and then said, "You don't have to lie to spare us the guilt, Wormy. Prongs and I know that the only reason your father's shop caught fire was because you stood up to Avery and my darling psychotic cousin." It was an apology, or at least as close as Sirius would ever come to giving one.

Peter sipped his own Firewhiskey and tried not to look ashamed. James and Sirius honestly believed that he had stood up to Avery. They had seen the fire as proof of Peter's innocence, and not recognized it for what it really was - the action that had finally pushed him into his guilt. They didn't know, hadn't even _suspected,_ that the fire had prompted Peter to betray his friends.

And now Sirius was here, complimenting him on his bravery.

However horrible it was to be at the receiving end of Sirius' fury, this was so much worse.

But Peter knew one thing for sure; no matter what, he could not let his friends learn the truth.


	23. And I've Got No Illusions About You

Chapter Twenty-Three: And I've Got No Illusions About You

"Potter! I want you to start at our next game," Shaw said.

James stared at him blankly. "Start what?" he asked, inwardly preparing for whatever irate remarks Shaw was going to toss his way. The team captain still had not let go of his anger towards James, and that had made the past several days uncomfortable at best.

Daphne Dumare and Ludo Bagman both burst into laughter at James' question. James tore his gaze away from Shaw and stared at them, nonplussed. Had he missed out on some private joke? Were they all mocking him?

It wouldn't have surprised him, he thought bitterly. Shaw _had_ been treating him unfairly all because of that article, and even if Daphne had explained it all, and even if James could at least somewhat understand Shaw's point of view, it _still_ wasn't fair.

Shaw raised his eyebrows at James. "The match," he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully as though he was talking to a child, "I want you to start on the pitch at our next match."

"But… I'm a reserve Chaser," James protested in bewilderment.

"Wilkinson is out because his sister is getting married that day," Shaw huffed, and James knew the captain was irritated that Jimmy's sister hadn't rearranged her wedding once it became clear that it would conflict with a Quidditch match. Quidditch mattered to him more than almost anything else, and he sometimes lost sight of his priorities.

James made a mental note not to let himself become so obsessed with Quidditch that he would feel annoyance over a teammate's family event.

Then Shaw's words finally registered with him, and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"And you want me to play in Jimmy's place," he said.

"Yes," Shaw answered, and now he seemed torn between irritation and amusement at James' bafflement. "That _is_ why we have reserve Chasers, Potter. So that the reserve can play when one of the starting Chasters can't make a match."

He did not bother to wait for James' response, but instead turned away and, carrying his broom in one hand and his cloak in the other, started walking towards the changing room.

Bagman clapped James on the shoulder. "You'll do great, Potter," he said jovially. "Just don't make a fool of yourself, or Shaw won't give you another chance." James blanched, and Bagman laughed. Then he followed Shaw off the pitch.

Daphne watched the two of them leave, then gave James a warm smile. "It looks like he's not mad at you anymore," she said. "I told you that you just needed to give it some time."

James grinned.

* * *

><p>The Lestrange estate was comprised of a black marble and stone manor on several acres of sprawling woods. It was Unplottable, and the dense forests that surrounded the manor prevented those arriving by the Floo Network or Apparition from having any idea where they were. The Lestranges valued their privacy, and the secrecy and mystery that surround their home only added to their reputation of mystique.<p>

Sewelyn Lestrange was a beautiful and aristocratic witch from Croatia. Her family had been improvised, but her blood had been purer than even the Lestrange family, and her marriage to Lysander had been considered a prudent match. With the Lestrange fortune, she had quickly pulled her family out of poverty and they were now firmly entrenched in Croatian politics. The ties between the two families had benefited both, and as a result, Sewelyn was widely respected for her cunning and business savvy.

She had not attended Hogwarts, but there was little doubt she would have been Sorted into Slytherin if she had.

She stood in the entrance way to the parlor, watching as Rabastan, Rodolphus, Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy, and two men that she did not recognize sat around a table, speaking in hushed whispers. Rodolphus looked annoyed – he and his brother were arguing. Malfoy was calmer, but Sewelyn had never actually seen him rattled and was unsure as to whether he ever showed that emotion. One of the men Sewelyn did not recognize was watching the conversation with a calculating expression. The other looked bored.

Sewelyn drew back, out of sight. She leaned against the corridor wall, straining to hear the conversation. Eavesdropping was not becoming of a witch of her status, but she was rather curious as to why her sons were quarreling.

"…are a fool. Nothing good could come from this. She's Potter's, completely." That was Rodolphus.

"Perhaps," came Rabastan's response. He sounded upset – angry. Defensive. "But _he_ isn't _hers_. Don't underestimate the wrath of a woman scorned."

Rodolphus had a sharp mind and an even sharper wit. He did not have the silver tongue his mother possessed, nor had he inherited her skills at flattery. But where Sewelyn could succeed with sweet talk, Rodolphus could succeed with intimidation. Sewelyn found it distasteful, but even she had to recognize that it had its uses.

Rabastan did not have a sharp mind. Rodolphus had done well in school, becoming a prefect and later Head Boy; Rabastan had spent most of his time in detention. Rodolophus had received Exceeds Expectations or higher on every OWL and NEWT he took; Rabastan had barely scraped by.

But Rodolphus did not understand women. Rabastan didn't either – Sewelyn wasn't even sure her younger son was interested in women. But this was one area where Rodolphus did not surpass his brother. Both were hopeless when it came to understanding the fairer sex.

Rodolphus had only ever had eyes for Bellatrix. They'd met at Hogwarts, and he'd been enamored of her from the very start. His letters home had been filled with tales of the Black girl, and while Lysander had dismissed them as a passing phase, Sewelyn had seen them for what they really were: an obsession.

Bellatrix Lestrange née Black seemed to have some affection for her husband, even if she did not return his utter adoration. But there was a wildness to Bellatrix that Sewelyn did not like, did not trust. There was a passionate light that would burn in her eyes when she spoke of her pureblood fanaticism, and her voice would shake with fierce emotion. She had no understanding of subtlety, no appreciation for the delicacy and intricacies of politics.

Rodolphus could not see this. He was blind to her faults, and Sewelyn did not like to consider the possibility that her daughter-in-law would drag Rodolphus down with her as she spiraled into insanity.

Sewelyn pushed away these dismal thoughts and focused her attention back on the conversation between the five young people in her parlor.

"…too wrapped up in your own desire to cause pain and havoc…" Rodolphus was growling.

"The Potters need to be knocked down," Rabastan interrupted, seething. "We should be striking at James Potter in any way we can."

"There is too much at stake, Rabastan," came Lucius Malfoy's drawling response. "We cannot jeopardize our fathers' joint legislation by engaging in personal vendettas."

"Hah! You're one to talk, Lucius," Rabastan snarled. "Or do you really expect us to believe that you targeting Black isn't _personal_?"

"That is different," Malfoy said stiffly. "I'm trying to protect my family name."

"And I'm trying to get at Potter in any way I can," Rabastan snapped back. "This is hardly a personal vendetta. Unlike some people here, I have no _personal_ grievance against the blood traitor."

"I may not like Potter," a voice said, and Sewelyn was sure it was one of the two men she didn't know, "but I at least have enough common sense not to approach Vanessa Lovely. She cannot be trusted. Do you really think you can manipulate her?"

"I thought you'd support this, Snape," Rabastan said, his voice filled with mocking laughter. "After all, I'm trying to get Potter to drop his obsession with Evans." There was a pause, then, "Oh, don't look at me with such a surprise, Snape. It's no secret that you still fancy the Mudblood. Or would you prefer to see her blissfully happy in Potter's arms?"

There was no response from the man named Snape.

"What's the matter, Snape? Kneazle got your tongue?" Rabastan mocked.

"I don't see why she needs to be a target," Snape said beseechingly. "Potter is the one we want to destroy, not her."

"She's a Mudblood, she's not worth…"

"Lily Evans is irrelevant," Malfoy interrupted Rabastan's response. "She is a means to an end only. She has provided us an opportunity to get to Potter, and we are not going to dismiss that just because you fancy her."

"What did you say to Lovely, Rabastan?" Rodolphus asked. His tone was strained; he was clearly trying to regain control of the situation.

"That she came in second, that Potter would always be enamored of Evans."

"Pathetic," Bellatrix murmured. "The Potters have always been blood traitors, but that he could stoop so low…"

"I agree," Rodolphus said, and Sewelyn could perfectly envision him giving Bellatrix that look of reverence that he only ever bestowed on his wife.

"What else did you say to Lovely?" Malfoy asked.

"That I could help her get Evans out of the picture. She seemed interested." Rabastan laughed roughly. "Eager, too. She likes him quite a bit. Pity he doesn't feel the same – I could at least approve of a match between those two."

"Better than one with Evans," Malfoy agreed quietly. "What did you tell her you would do to get between Evans and Potter?"

"I didn't give her any details. Just told her I could cause some problems for them, and in return, she had to do something for me. She wanted proof first. Results. I told her we should meet again tomorrow – I'd have proof by then."

"Who are you going to get it from? Our little rat?" the fifth man asked.

"Why not? Pettigrew has proven useful, Avery, and I am sure you and Bella could _convince_ him to help us some more."

"Perhaps," Malfoy agreed. "However, I think it would be best if I were the one to speak to Miss Lovely."

Sewelyn decided she had heard enough, and moved away from the room. She walked through the hallway towards the grand staircase that led to the second floor, deep in her own thoughts.

They were fractured. All five of them wanted the same thing – Lysander's legislation passed and the Potters' reputation ruined. But they were arguing amongst each other, unable to agree on a path. They were young, foolish, overly eager.

But it wasn't just a problem with them. Even Lysander and Abraxas had their disagreements, and both of them had argued fiercely with Ignatius Prewitt and Cygnus and Druella Black.

They had no leader, no one who could take all the different viewpoints and create a clear and coherent plan. There was no one to make the final decisions, no one to pull together such diverse people and unite them by their underlying beliefs in pureblood supremacy.

Even in her own family, this particular talent was missing. Lysander had the political brilliance, but not the driving passion and stubbornness necessary to be that sort of leader. Rodolphus had the intelligence and determination, but not the subtlety. Bellatrix had the fire and the passion, but not the ability to inspire devotion or loyalty. And Rabastan… well, he didn't have much of anything.

She sighed. All these ideas, all these plans, all these hopes and dreams, and all of it would go to waste if they couldn't form a cohesive group.

* * *

><p>Of all the things Lily had expected when she opened the door of her flat, it was not to see Severus standing there.<p>

"Lily," he said. His voice was soft, gentle, and there was an undercurrent of something – pleading, maybe. Had she never noticed the way he said her name, almost like it was a prayer?

"Severus," she replied, nearly choking on the name. "What do you want?"

"I need to talk to you – _please_," he said.

"About what?" she asked coolly, refusing to step aside from the doorway and give him entrance to her flat. If he had something to say, he'd have to say it here.

Severus glanced behind him worriedly, almost as though he thought he was being followed or watched. Lily pursed her lips – she'd seen that nervous look before. It had been most prominent during their fifth year, when the friendship had finally come undone. It was the look he wore every time he worried that one of his Slytherin friends would see them talking and laughing together.

He was still embarrassed to be around her.

Lily flushed, opening her mouth to tell him off, but Severus abruptly started speaking.

"Lucius Malfoy is going after you because you are friends with Potter," he said, his words coming out in a rush. His dark eyes narrowed as he uttered James' name with something akin to disgust.

"I know that," Lily said calmly.

"No – no, you don't understand," Severus argued. "That's all, that's the _only_ reason. If you were to stop being friends with Potter, he would stop going after you."

"That's not the only reason," Lily snapped. "I'm a Mudblood, remember? And we both know what Malfoy and the rest of you think of Mudbloods."

"No, no… you're not…" Severus started, his words filled with raw desperation, but then stopped. He shook his head and regained control over his emotions. In a calmer tone, he said, "If you weren't friends with Potter, Lucius wouldn't go after you. I know he wouldn't, Lily. He only cares about Potter and…"

"And what?" Lily asked hotly, temper flaring. "You want me to selfishly ignore Potter so that I can save myself? Or do I need to actually _support_ Malfoy's disgusting legislation to earn their respect?"

She didn't even know why she was so incensed by Severus' words. She was still angry at James for all the problems he had unknowingly caused, and wanted little to do with him. But at least she was able to admit that he hadn't done it intentionally, that he had been trying to help her – and Remus, too. What kind of person would she be if she threw him to the wolves to save herself?

Severus flushed. "They're going to win, Lily. Don't you see that? Abraxas Malfoy, Lysander Lestrange, Ignatius Prewitt… all of them. They're going to win, and Potter can't stop that. No one can stop that. This is what the people want – this is the future of the Ministry. You're on the wrong side, but if you'd just join us…"

Lily curled her lip disdainfully. "And if they do win? Do you really think they'll ever accept me?"

"Yes. Yes! They'll see that you're different, you're…"

"_Different_?" Lily cut him off, enraged. "Different from what, Severus? Different from all the other Mudbloods who deserve this discrimination? Different from Mary?" She shook her head furiously. "Abraxas Malfoy wants to ban Muggleborns from ever working in the Ministry. The next thing you know, we'll have our wands confiscated and be rounded up and carted off to prison camps."

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus said. "That's not going to happen."

"Merlin, Severus, open your eyes!" Lily retorted angrily. "That's _exactly_ what they want. And maybe it won't happen. Maybe they'll go for something more subtle. But your buddies will always think of me as filth, and they'll come after me regardless of whether or not I am friends with Potter."

"I can protect you," Severus said desperately. "Lily, please… I can keep you safe. But you have to stop being friends with Potter. You _have_ to."

Lily stared Severus straight in the eye and said flatly, "No."

Severus seemed surprised at her emphatic refusal – and she was surprised as well. The word had slipped from her lips without any conscious thought on her part. She hadn't even had a chance to think over the implications of what Severus was asking her to do – pick a side, pick him or James.

But whether she had thought it through or not, she had made the choice. She'd chosen James.

Severus looked crestfallen. "Lily… Lily, I… please…" He was struggling, apparently unable to come up with the right way to express his meaning. There was something more he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come, and he finally he blurted out, "Potter will drag you down with him. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anyone other than himself."

"That," Lily said firmly, "is _not_ true."

"It _is_!" Severus cried. "Why can't you see that? Remember what you used to call him? Remember when you thought he was an arrogant toerag? He hasn't changed, he's just tricked you into thinking that he has."

But that wasn't true, either. James _had_ changed. Lily might not always like the way he went about doing things, but she had to at least admit that he wasn't the same person he'd been at Hogwarts.

But none of them were the same people they'd been just a few short months ago. The real world had changed all that. The stakes were higher here, and actions had real consequences and repercussions beyond a bad mark or a detention, and everyone's true colors were slowly starting to show.

"People change, Severus," she said softly. "You certainly did."

James had changed for the better, but Severus…

She sighed, shook her head, feeling suddenly drained.

"James is a good person, and we're on the same side of this fight," Lily said. "But you aren't on our side."

Severus looked as though he couldn't believe she had said that. His entire body seemed to sag under the weight of her words, and his face crumbled into a look of grief and horror.

"You're wrong," he declared hoarsely. "You're wrong about Potter – about all of them. And I _am_ on your side, Lily. I am, _I am_. I'm trying to help you…"

"Help me?" Lily scoffed. "By supporting legislation that discriminates against people like me?" She reached over to the door and started to swing it shut, intent on ending the conversation.

"No, you don't understand. You don't get it!" Severus cried, his eyes wild, his voice filled with panic. He grabbed the door, forcing it back open.

"You're the one who doesn't get it, Severus," Lily said gently. "You think you can hate all Muggleborns and then tell me that I am different, but it doesn't work that way. Either you hate _all_ of us or you accept that _none_ of us are filth. You can't have it both ways."

And she tried to close the door again.

Severus wrenched it out of her grasp and took a step closer to her. She felt a thrill of fear run down her spine but quickly pushed it away. There was nothing to be afraid of – she might not like Severus' current belief system and she might despise his friends, but he wouldn't intentionally physically hurt her.

"Vanessa Lovely wants you out of the way," Severus said.

"Potter's girlfriend?" Lily asked, completely bewildered by the change in conversation. "What are you talking about?"

"She's talking to Lucius about it today," Severus continued urgently. "They'll come after you. Both of them. Because of Potter – all of this is because of Potter." His expression twisted into an ugly sneer as he spat, "He doesn't deserve your loyalty. He doesn't care about you, he's not lifting a finger to help you." Then the sneer was gone, replaced by an earnestness, a frankness, that Lily had not seen on his face since they were both children, and he said, "But _I_ am, Lily. I am here, asking – _begging_ – you to let me help."

"By telling me to break off my friendships and turn my back on everything I believe in?" Lily asked bluntly. "James, Remus… Mary, too, because I doubt any of you would be thrilled if I spent time with a Mudblood…" She shook her head. "No, Severus. This isn't the kind of help that I want."

* * *

><p>"You are not Rabastan Lestrange," Vanessa said flatly as Lucius Malfoy slid into the seat opposite her at the teashop.<p>

"Well spotted, Miss Lovely," Malfoy said with a smirk. "I see your powers of perception are keen as ever." He glanced around with pursed lips. "I'm surprised you managed to convince Rabastan to meet you here. This is not exactly his… ah… typical hangout."

"No," Vanessa said, "I suppose it isn't."

Malfoy looked back at her thoughtfully. "You know, you've changed since I last saw you."

"You mean since Hogwarts?" Vanessa said, feigning ignorance. "We've all changed since then, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. "You know what I mean," he said pointedly, his eyes running along the length of her body before settling once more on her face.

"I'm surprised you even remember me from Hogwarts," Vanessa commented, curling her fingers around her ridiculously decorative cup of tea.

"I was a prefect," Malfoy replied. "It was my job to know everyone in my House – even the younger students."

"But prefects usually only know the ones who are either extremely talented at magic or incorrigible troublemakers. I was neither." She leaned forward. "Why did you come here? And where is Lestrange?"

Malfoy didn't answer the question. Instead, he looked down at her teacup. The handle was in the shape of a swan, it's long neck arcing to form a curve, it's beak pressed against the rim of the cup. The tea inside was a concoction of sickly sweet flavors – even the name was something absurd – Passionate Peach Party.

"I would not have assumed you were the frivolous type," Malfoy commented.

Vanessa laughed lightly. "You don't know me very well," she replied.

"Hm… but perhaps I do. Perhaps you chose this particular shop as a meeting place because you wanted to see if Rabastan would actually show up. It was a test – you wanted to know if he was serious enough about his offer to venture into a place like this."

Vanessa took a sip of the tea. It was cloyingly sweet. "Perhaps," she said.

"Quite the Slytherin," Malfoy remarked.

"Yes," Vanessa said firmly, "I _am_."

"Tell me," Malfoy said, "what brought about your change in appearance? The girl I remember from Hogwarts was gawky and awkward and had never even heard of cosmetics."

"That girl grew up," Vanessa replied. She leaned forward and rested her fingers lightly on his arm. "Why are you so interested in my appearance?"

Malfoy glanced down at her fingers but did not pull his arm away. Instead, he gave her a sly smile and said, "Curiosity, I suppose."

"It was a means to an end," Vanessa said.

"As are most things in life," Malfoy replied.

Vanessa smiled as she let her mind wander back to the beginning of her seventh year at Hogwarts. Although she had been – as Malfoy put it – gawky and awkward at Hogwarts, she had always been bright and perceptive. She'd been blessed with some innate understanding of the way people thought, and six years in Slytherin had made her cunning and ambitious as well. She had just never quite figured out how to put all those traits together to come up with any particular talent. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life after she left school, and no idea where to start looking for career opportunities.

Then, during the October of her seventh year, her best friend Dalia had confided to Vanessa that she was afraid her boyfriend was cheating on her. The boyfriend in question – Vincent Savage – had been the Seeker for the Slytherin team, and was widely regarded as the best Seeker – and possibly the best Quidditch player – Hogwarts had seen in years. And Vincent had foolishly believed that his talent on the Quidditch pitch meant he was untouchable.

Vanessa had been enraged. Dalia had been her best friend for six years and no one – not even a great Quidditch player like Vincent – hurt Dalia and got away with it.

In retaliation, Vanessa had found Vincent, charmed him until he spilled several secrets he likely did not want the entire student body to know, and then whispered them to a few key people who she knew had never been able to keep their mouths shut.

The gossip had spread like wildfire through the school.

Dalia had laughed for days.

Then she had asked Vanessa _how_ she had gotten the information out of Vincent, and the auburn-haired witch hadn't been able to explain it. The most she could say was that she had charmed Vincent, tricking him into believing that she could be trusted. She had acted on an instinctual level, following her gut every time it told her to do or say something, or to laugh in just the right way, or to bat her eyes and smile.

Dalia had declared it a sign – Vanessa was destined to be a detective.

Vanessa had thought that sounded boring, but her residual anger at Vincent for how he had treated Dalia – and for the fact that he honestly believed he could get away with it because he was a Quidditch player – had suggested a different career path for her, and that was the day she had decided to become a Quidditch reporter.

It was also the day that Dalia had decided Vanessa should put more effort into her appearance because being beautiful would only add to her ability to charm information out of people. And Vanessa had taken that advice and put all of her effort and energy into changing her appearance. There had been enough pretty, vapid, and shallow girls in Slytherin to help her learn how to use makeup and take care of her hair and dress properly, and she had soon discovered that even grace and poise were things that could be learned with the right effort and incentive.

She was a Slytherin, through and through, and her appearance had always only been a means to an end.

"You seem nostalgic," Malfoy said, breaking into her thoughts. "Thinking of Hogwarts?"

Vanessa withdrew her hand from his arm and leaned back in her seat. "I was," she replied. "You still have not told me why you are here, Mr. Malfoy."

"Please, call me Lucius," Malfoy replied gallantly. "And may I call you Vanessa?"

"I suppose," Vanessa said. "Assuming Mrs. Malfoy does not mind the informality."

Malfoy actually laughed outright. "I assure you, Vanessa, that Cissy does not mind at all. She knows she can trust me – I only have eyes for her."

"Well, then I certainly would prefer interacting with you to interacting with Lestrange," Vanessa replied, taking another sip of tea and watching Malfoy over the edge of the cup.

Malfoy frowned. "Rabastan's tastes must have improved if he is showing an interest in you," he said. "Usually he isn't so… discriminating. Previously, his only requirement was that the person in question be alive. Whether said person fancies him or not."

Vanessa raised her eyebrows, suddenly extraordinarily thankful that she was dealing with Malfoy instead of Lestrange.

"Rabastan thinks you can be trusted," Malfoy continued. "I am not so sure."

"I assume the article James and I wrote is still bothering you?" Vanessa asked lightly. She saw the look of pure fury flash through Malfoy's face, so quickly that she almost missed it. She was on thin ice here, and had to tread carefully.

When the blonde wizard spoke, however, his tone was light, almost amused. "Well, it _was_ a rather unfortunate event. I don't suppose you've changed your viewpoint?"

"No," Vanessa replied, unapologetic. There was no point lying, Malfoy already knew where she stood on this issue and was unlikely to believe that she had changed her mind so quickly.

"Pity," Malfoy drawled. "And you will not change your opinion, Vanessa, even though you are no longer Potter's first priority?"

"Well, now let's be honest, _Lucius_," Vanessa answered, her eyes darkening, "I was never James' first priority."

"And yet you still want him," Malfoy remarked, his tone filled with curiosity. He sighed and gave her a sympathetic smile. "There is nothing quite so sad as loving someone who does not love you back."

"I never realized you were quite so… poetic," Vanessa commented dryly. Malfoy merely smiled, and Vanessa leaned forward and said intently, "Lily Evans shows no love for James, and yet she is still the first thought on his mind. Rabastan offered to help me. Are you here to keep his deal or not?"

"If I help you, you and Potter will continue to fight me in the future," Malfoy replied.

"Yes," Vanessa said simply. "We can consider this a trade – you help me once, I will help you once. Then we will both go back to our respective sides of the battle."

"And when Potter grows tired of you or suddenly realizes that his pathetic Gryffindor ideals prevent him from going steady with a Slytherin?"

The corners of Vanessa's lips turned up into the smallest of smiles. "That won't happen," she said confidently. "If you can remove Evans from the picture, I can take care of everything else." She took another sip of her tea, locking gazes with Malfoy as she did so. She placed the cup down and added, "Trust me. I am quite good at keeping a wizard's attention."

"Except when Lily Evans is involved," Malfoy said.

Vanessa flushed. "Except then," she admitted slowly. There was a silence, then she said, "Lestrange was going to bring me proof that you could get Evans out of the picture."

Malfoy rose to his feet, and Vanessa quickly followed suit, instinctively not wanting to give him a height advantage. "I'm still not sure that I trust you, Vanessa, but I am certainly intrigued," he said. "_If_ I decide to help you, I will be in touch. And I'll bring proof."

"Don't wait too long," Vanessa said softly. "I'm not a patient person, and if you won't help me, I'm sure I can find someone else who will."

* * *

><p><em>Potter Family Interferes in Ministry Appointment<em>

_Pazia Grimaldi, often considered to be one of the most disastrous Heads of the Department of International Magical Cooperation the Ministry has ever experienced, admitted on Tuesday that her appointment had been a result of Charlus Potter's manipulations. She was forced to resign two years ago after a mishap involving the French Minister nearly destroyed all ties between these two countries. At the time, her inexperience in diplomacy was cited as a cause – now it has come to light that even she knew she wasn't qualified for the position._

"_Charlus [Potter] asked me to accept the appointment," explained Mrs. Grimaldi. "Well, he didn't really ask. He has this way of asking that is… oh, blast it, its hard to explain. He pretends like you have a choice, but he's a Potter and he always gets his way."_

_As for why Potter would be interested in having Mrs. Grimaldi as the department Head – "Well, that's hardly a surprise, is it?" states one senior Ministry official who requested to remain anonymous due to fear of Potter's retribution. "Grimaldi is completely under his thumb, and he put her in a position to make sure all of his international business deals went through. He didn't get held up by little things like taxes or tariffs or regulations."_

The knock at the door of her flat prevented Lily from reading any more, but she didn't mind. The first few paragraphs were already making her stomach turn. How could anyone believe this obvious trash?

She got up from the sofa, tossing the _Daily Prophet_ aside.

Mary, who was drinking a cup of tea and perusing the pages of _Witch Weekly_ for interesting gossip, looked up as well. "Are you expecting anyone?" she asked curiously.

"No," Lily replied. It had been another long and grueling day in the program, and she really didn't want visitors. In the twenty-four hours since her meeting with Healer Akhlys she had on multiple occasions considered dropping out, but just hadn't managed to make up her mind yet. She was too stubborn, and despite knowing that her dreams had died and she was now just wasting her time, giving up felt like quitting, and she was not a quitter.

On the other hand, news of the content of that meeting had traveled quickly, and Eliza Greengrass had taken great pleasure in mocking Lily for it. The redhead wasn't sure how much more of that she could take.

She pulled open the door and found James standing there, next to a wizard she did not recognize. The stranger was tall, with bright blue eyes that seemed to protrude unnaturally from his head and dark gray hair that tufted in such chaos it made James' own locks look neatly combed by comparison.

"Potter," Lily said tiredly, "I'm really not in the mood to talk to you. Or argue, or whatever it is we're going to do." Although the conversation with Severus had at least finally convinced her that she not only considered James a friend but she still wanted to keep his friendship, despite everything, she didn't have the energy for another confrontation.

And the problem was that all conversations with James – whether arguments or bland conversations about the weather – required energy.

"You don't need to talk," James replied. "You just need to listen. Five minutes, Evans. Give me five minutes."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "And then you'll go away?" she asked.

James nodded. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of your life, if that's what you want," he said in a pained voice.

"That isn't what I want," Lily admitted. James looked surprised, and she hurried on, "I just… I'm tired, Potter. It's been a long day and I still haven't had a chance to… to come to terms with all of my dreams ending…" She trailed off, horrified by the lump forming in her throat and the burning sensation of tears in her eyes.

She would _not_ cry.

"Five minutes," James said again.

She nodded. "Fine," she said, and stepped aside to allow him and his companion into her flat.

"Hello, Mary," James said as he stepped around Lily.

Mary smiled at him. "Hi, James," she replied. "I'll just… give you and Lily some privacy." And she slipped out of the room, taking her tea and the _Witch Weekly_ with her. She paused in the doorway just long enough to give Lily a searching look, and then left.

Lily knew what Mary wanted to say – it was time to forgive James for the consequences of his actions, apologize for her own unnecessary anger, and move on.

"You have a very nice flat, Miss Evans," the strange man said.

"Uh… thank you?" Lily replied.

"The young Mr. Potter thought I'd be interested in meeting you," the man said. He glanced at James. "It's not every day someone shows up at your home and offers to pay you handsomely to come talk to a pretty girl."

Lily had no idea what to make of that statement, so she settled for glaring at James. "You _paid_ him?" she asked. Given how much of their current disagreement settled around James using his money to get what he wanted, she couldn't believe he would do something like this now.

"Well, it was more like he offered to fund some of my research," the wizard continued. "Not that I need the funding, mind you. I do perfectly well on my own." He glanced sternly at James, determined to make this point clear.

James nodded in agreement.

"But I was rather impressed by his resourcefulness in finding me," the stranger said. "I make a point of keeping out of the public eye. My address isn't registered at the Ministry and I don't think I've had a photograph of myself taken in years… it's good, too. I'd rather pretend I'm younger than I am. I don't even like looking in the mirror. I can never figure out who that old man is staring back at me."

"I don't even know who you are," Lily said flatly. She was starting to think granting James those five minutes had been a bad idea.

The other wizard ignored her. "Of course, I also felt some sympathy for Potter. I know what it is like to be at the wrong end of a political battle." He gave a wry grin, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, and said, "But the important thing is to make the best of a bad situation. That's what I did."

Lily shot a bewildered look at James.

"It's really a fascinating story," James said to his companion, giving Lily a wink. "You should tell Lily about it."

"Hmph," the man said sourly. "I try not to even think about it. Bloody Healers."

"You don't like Healers?" Lily asked, curious despite herself.

"I used to be one," the man replied. "A few decades ago. That was at the height of the war, of course, before Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. Grindelwald believed that magic made us better than Muggles, you know. Wanted to practically enslave them all. Complete nutter, that one."

"I… see…" Lily said. The man kept speaking in tangents, throwing in bits of information that couldn't possibly be relevant to whatever point he was trying to make.

"He didn't come to England. They say he was afraid of Dumbledore, and for good reason, I suppose, since Dumbledore defeated him." The man stopped and turned his protruding eyes to James. "Where was I?"

"You were explaining why you don't like Healers," James replied.

"Oh, but that has nothing to do with Grindelwald," the stranger said blankly. "I wonder why I was talking about that. Hm…"

The man was insane. There was really no other explanation for it. He was a complete lunatic, continually rambling on about extraneous things.

Lily looked at James. "You're running out of time," she stated flatly.

James just smiled at her.

The strange wizard's voice took on a nostalgic quality as he said, "I dated this girl for a while, but her father didn't approve. He was the Head of St. Mungo's, and didn't think his daughter should be involved with a… ah, what did he call me? A mediocre Healer with no hope of success." The man laughed. "I was, too. Quite mediocre. I went into Healing because I was good at it, but not because I had any real passion for the profession. I just didn't care, and it showed. I never would have advanced." His gaze softened and he seemed to be remembering something. "The girl told her father she didn't care, she was going to marry me one day. We were in love."

"I know what that's like," James said quietly, giving Lily a piercing stare.

Lily quirked an eyebrow at him. "Thinking of Vanessa?" she asked pointedly, a reminder that he had a girlfriend, and he at least had the decency to blush.

The strange wizard apparently missed the side conversation, or perhaps just didn't care about the saga that was James' turbulent relationship with Lily. He had his own story to tell.

"There wasn't much her father could do. He could have cut off her inheritance, I suppose, but I think he knew that she wouldn't care. She'd have rather been poor but with me than wealthy and on her own. And besides… well, she was still his daughter and he couldn't bring himself to do anything to her." His voice hardened. "But me… he had no problem coming after me."

For a moment, he looked absolutely furious. Then he sighed and shook his head, seemingly abruptly much older.

"He transferred me to a locked ward at St. Mungo's. Left me as the soul Healer in charge every full moon when they brought the monsters in." The stranger shook his head. "I watched as those poor, wretched souls tore themselves to pieces, and then I handed them off to other Healers who denied them pain potions and mocked them for their perceived weakness. I scrubbed the blood out of their hospital rooms – their cells. Once a month, those animalistic howls of pain tore through me as I stood there, helpless to do anything."

There was an oddly fanatical light in his eyes now, and his voice had risen in volume. It was enough to attract the attention of Mary, who had come out of her room and was hovering in the hallway, listening in silent awe.

"My soon-to-be father in law had intended to wear me down, make me give up, make me give in to his demands. He offered to let me transfer to a different ward if I just called things off with his daughter. But he didn't understand what the had given me… _passion_. For the first time in all of my schooling, both at Hogwarts and St. Mungo's, I had found something I cared about." He laughed. "Oh, the irony. He wanted to wear me down because he didn't think I was successful enough to woo his daughter, but instead, he gave me the motivation I needed to become the kind of person he _did_ think was good enough." He paused, then sighed. "Not that it helped."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked breathlessly. "Didn't he let you marry his daughter? Now that you were good enough?"

Lily smirked at her friend. Mary was quite a romantic, and apparently the story intrigued her enough to forget her earlier intent of offering James and Lily some privacy.

"I am sure he wouldn't have minded... but she did," the man said. "I quit my job as a Healer, you see, and threw myself into potions. I spent all my time on research, and not enough of it on her. She grew tired of waiting around for me to remember that I loved her, and eventually she married someone else."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lily said quietly. "But you still haven't told me who you are."

"Oh, haven't I?" the man said, sounding surprised. "Well, why didn't you say something earlier, Miss Evans?" He held out his hand. "I'm Damocles Belby." Lily's jaw dropped as she numbly shook his hand, and he continued, "And Mr. Potter here thinks I should be looking for an apprentice."


	24. And Guess What? I Never Did

So sorry for the delay. I've been traveling abroad, which has given me limited time to write (and limited access to internet to post). I'm still out of the country for a few more weeks, but will try to get the next chapter up a bit more quickly than I did with this one.

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Four: And Guess What? I Never Did<p>

"I'm not taking charity," Lily stated flatly.

Damocles Belby glanced up from the book he was perusing and met Lily's determined expression. "Did I say you were?" he asked mildly. He looked down at the book again and frowned, then his eyes traveled sideways, past the book, and landed on a scroll of parchment on which Lily had written several notes for the potion. "I see you have notes on chizpurfle fang? Do you really think that is an appropriate ingredient?"

"What?" Lily demanded, snatching the scroll away from him. "No, no." She shook her head, frustrated both at his blasé attitude and at the fact that something as ridiculous as chizpurfle fang had ended up in her notes. She picked up the nearest quill and scratched it out.

Belby raised an eyebrow.

"It was just something Potter suggested," Lily said, shaking her. Of all the things for him to look at, why did it have to be her notes about _that_? "He liked the name."

"That's hardly a reason to pick ingredients," Belby said, a mixture of amusement and disapproval in his tone.

"I know," Lily replied. She placed the scroll back on the table and took her own seat across from him once more. It felt uncomfortably weird to have such an important and brilliant man sitting in her flat, looking over her work. She wanted to make sure he understood that she hadn't asked James for this. She wanted him to know that she was talented at potions and wasn't just relying on a friend's money – but she didn't know how to bring up her own accomplishments without sounding like she was bragging.

Belby didn't seem to notice her discomfort at the situation; he was too engrossed in her notes.

James had already left, claiming that he didn't have the potions aptitude to follow any conversation the two of them might have. But Lily knew it was more than that – he wanted to give her an opportunity to talk to Belby alone. To impress him, to convince him that she was worth taking on as an apprentice.

Unfortunately, she still wasn't convinced that Belby cared about her abilities at potions. James had offered him money, after all. What if that was all he cared about? What if everything else was unimportant to him?

"Mr. Belby, sir… I just wanted to make sure that this isn't charity," Lily tried again. "I appreciate your help – I do. I don't want you to think that I am ungrateful. But I can't… _won't_… take Potter's money. I am not _that_ kind of witch."

Belby gave her a wry smirk. "Then I suppose it is a good thing he is offering the money to me, Miss Evans, and not you."

Lily looked shocked at his words, and Belby's smirk shifted into a grin. It took her a moment to realize that his comment had been a joke. She hadn't expected him to have a sense of humor.

Belby sighed then, his expression becoming more serious, more thoughtful. "This isn't charity, Miss Evans. And it isn't about the money, either." He gestured to her notes. "I am impressed by your theory and the progress you've made in just a few short weeks. You've come up with ideas that I hadn't even considered."

"I'm sure some of that was just luck," Lily replied automatically, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop to think about an appropriate response. She desperately wanted the praise, but was uneasy about accepting it when it came at the expense of his own intelligence. And besides, given how renowned a potioneer he was, she simply couldn't believe that she had made any discoveries that would have eluded him.

"Oh, I doubt it," Belby replied, dismissing her words with a casual wave of his hand. "That is often how research goes, you know. Sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes to find the answers." He gazed at her for a long moment, then said, "Of course, sometimes it is pure luck. Sometimes things happen that you can't foresee. Why, there was this one potion I was working on several years ago, after I'd all but given up on Wolfsbane. It was supposed to ease some of the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse, but I just couldn't get the ingredients to reach the right consistency. The son of a friend of mine – he was six at the time and had so much enthusiasm for everything, but then I suppose that all six-year-olds do. I could never keep up with them; I haven't the energy for that…" He trailed off contemplatively, then blinked up at Lily, a frown appearing on his face. "What was I saying?"

"About a potion to ease the aftereffects of Crucio," Lily murmured, a chill running down her spine at the thought of that particular curse. She was mildly surprised that he would be working on such a potion given how uncommon the curse was. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even _heard_ of it being used, though she supposed Aurors might be in danger of getting hit with it.

Belby seemed to read her thoughts, because he said in an uncharacteristically hard tone, "It may not be common now, Miss Evans, but it was during the war. Grindelwald and his followers enjoyed using it."

Lily nodded slowly, and swallowed. The war, horrible as it had been, was just a theoretical concept to her. It had ended years before she was born, and had been fought primarily on the Continent. She'd learned about it at school, of course, but found it difficult to believe that such violence, such horror, could ever happen here in Britain.

Belby looked down at her notes again. "My friend's son had snuck into my work room and started playing with the potion. I, of course, hurried in to stop him, and he told me that I should heat up my potion more because the bubbles were pretty. I ignored that bit of advice, but then, after weeks of trying to get the right consistency, I was finally at my wit's end and decided to play around with the heat."

"But adding too much heat to a potion can cause it to lose its potency," Lily protested.

"Oh, very good, Miss Evans," Belby said with a nod. He sounded surprised and pleased. "Not many potions students remember that. And it is such basic knowledge, I can never figure out _why_ people forget. I've spoken to Horace – Professor Slughorn, to you – about this issue several times and he assures me that he is doing his very best to make sure his students remember the fundamentals, but somehow they keep forgetting." He clicked his tongue in censure and then said disapprovingly, "I suppose they don't pay as much attention to Potions because it isn't as flashy or exciting as Charms and Transfiguration."

"Did the potion work?" Lily pressed, ignoring his tangent.

"What potion?" Belby asked blankly.

"The potion for the Cruciatus curse," Lily replied, wondering vaguely how Belby had become so brilliant at potions research when he could barely form a coherent thought. But then weren't brilliance and insanity just two sides of the same coin?

"Oh, yes," Belby said with a smile. "It did. It was less potent, of course, but the loss of potency was acceptable, given that without the extra heat on the cauldron I couldn't get the potion to work at all." He furrowed his brow. "Why was I telling you this story?" A pause, then, "Oh, yes. The importance of a new set of eyes."

Lily wasn't entirely sure it was a compliment that she had just been compared to a six-year-old, but she let that go for the moment and said instead, "But Potter offered you money." She hesitated, trying to figure out how to delicately ask if he was considering helping her merely because of _that_, but Belby saved her the trouble of coming up with something to say.

"And, as I told Mr. Potter, I am more than capable of getting my own funding," he replied firmly. "Really, Miss Evans, do you always assume that everyone is only ever interested in wealth?"

Lily flushed. "I…I don't…" she stammered, unsure how to respond. It was, after all, what most people were interested in.

Belby shook his head with a sigh. Then he said, "I don't need an apprentice, I don't need to work on the Wolfsbane potion, and I certainly don't need money. Mr. Potter's perseverance and… well, a rather passionate speech about your talents and the unfairness of the world… _that_ is why I am here. Your friend has bought you an opportunity to impress me. Nothing more, nothing less." He glanced up at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And you haven't managed to impress me yet."

Lily opened her mouth to argue, and then forced herself to bite back the hasty words. After a moment of internal struggle in which she debated all the possible answers she could give, she asked, "And what would impress you?"

Mr. Belby smiled. "How about instead of telling me all the reasons why you aren't going to take Mr. Potter's charity, you focus instead on telling me all the reasons why you think you are worthy of working with me?" Lily hesitated, and he said with sympathetic grin, "Don't worry about sounding arrogant or conceited. I can assure you that I will not hold it against you – in the real world, sometimes arrogance is needed."

* * *

><p>Peter couldn't help but wish that this was somehow all a dream. A nightmare, really. Something from which he could wake up.<p>

It wasn't.

The dark-haired witch smiled lazily, her heavily-hooded eyes fixed on him. Her dark red lips stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin, and Peter kept staring at at them. It was far easier to look at her mouth then to meet her chillingly insane gaze.

"I'm not…" he stared a weak protest, his voice shaking.

"You _are_," Bellatrix interrupted before he could say anything. She took a step closer. "We're not done with you, ickle Petey." And she reached out and ruffled his hair the way one might do to a toddler.

Peter felt a shiver run down his spine as he jerked away from her.

"I don't have anything else to tell you," he said, moving backwards, away from her. He hesitated, then added with a level of bravery in his tone that definitely did not reflect how he truly felt, "James is my _friend_. I won't help you. I won't betray him."

"You didn't have a problem doing that before," Bellatrix cooed, smirking at him. "What would your friends say if I told them about _that_?"

"Don't…" Peter started immediately, than choked off the word. He lowered his gaze, trying to organize his jumbled and frantic thoughts. His heart was hammering in his chest and all he could think of, all he could consider, was how urgently he just wanted to wake up.

Bellatrix smiled and raised one eyebrow challengingly. She knew the right buttons to push, knew the threats that would lodge themselves firmly underneath Peter's skin. He wasn't sure how to fight her, and every time she spoke he found his resolve crumbling just a little bit more, unable to stand upright underneath the full weight of her terrifying words.

"_You_," she said, "should have been in Slytherin. You have the cunning and the ambition." Tilting her head to the side, she added in a mock-contemplative tone, "And you certainly don't have the idiotically noble bravery of most Gryffindors."

Peter wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment – she was in Slytherin, after all – but he bristled all the same. "I am _not_ one of you," he spat, his anger momentarily surpassing his fear.

"Aren't you?" Bellatrix murmured, leaning forward. Her glittering eyes fixed on him, and he couldn't look away, couldn't tear his own eyes from her piercing gaze. "I understand why you did what you did," she continued, "and I even… admire… it. Manipulation is the first step to success. The first step to showing your supposed friends that you are so much _more_ than they give you credit for."

Peter swallowed. It was true that he wanted success – true that he wanted to _matter_. He wanted his friends to notice him, wanted to be more than an afterthought in their lives. And he wanted his father to care more about his warnings than about the shop.

But he hadn't betrayed James out of any desire to be better than the other wizard. Right?

When he'd first given Avery information about Mr. Potter attempting to buy Lily a spot in the next stage of the training program, he'd done it out of sheer desperation. He'd had to protect his father because it was clear that no one else would.

There had been some bitterness, too, though he tried not to think about that. His father's shop had gone up in flames, but James and Sirius had been too busy worrying about Remus to even notice until the next day.

He forced himself to look away from Bellatrix. "You're wrong," he whispered, wishing he could feel confidence in his words.

"Am I?" she asked, laughing. In a sing-song voice, she pressed on, "Little Peter wants to be the best of all his friends."

Peter shook his head in frantic denial of her words.

"You have quite the talent, little Peter," Bellatrix said, and his gaze snapped back to her face in surprise at the compliment. "The ability to listen, to _remember_… So very, very useful."

Peter flushed. It hadn't been enough to merely pass on the information about Mr. Potter's actions. The Malfoys were smart enough to know that a serious allegation without proof could be disastrous for them – particularly if Mr. Potter decided to challenge it. It had terrified a desperate Peter, scared him to think that his betrayal might not be enough to save his father's shop.

But then Lucius had pointed out that they didn't need actual proof of that wrong-doing; they just needed a list of other wrongs. Throw enough accusations at the Potters, and the ones that did have proof would make up for the ones that didn't. After all, if they could prove that Charlus Potter had manipulated the Ministry once, everyone would believe that he had done it several times.

And Peter had provided them with that list.

Laurel Harvin spent Christmas and New Years with the Potter family two years ago, and within a week had a position at the Ministry in the Auror Division. It was entirely possible that that had been a coincidence, but it was the appearance of impropriety that mattered.

James himself had told Peter about his father rescuing Mundungus Fletcher from the Wizengamot. He'd laughed about it at the time, and then promptly forgotten the entire incident.

Peter's father had once mentioned to him – in an offhandedly casual way – that if he had been able to pick the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation the way Charlus Potter had, his toy shop would be more successful.

Bellatrix smiled at him, and the smile seemed almost… friendly. "Your friends don't recognize that talent, do they?"

Peter frowned. Sirius had called him courageous, but no one had ever called him perceptive or intelligent.

Did they not see it? Did they not understand what he was capable of doing? At this point, the Malfoys, Lestranges, and Averys could accuse Mr. Potter of anything they wanted, and no one would believe that he _wasn't_ guilty. And it was Peter who had done this, Peter who had provided the necessary information.

The thought made him feel sick, but he couldn't stop the flair of triumph in his chest.

Bellatrix tilted her chin up, and asked, "And how do you think they will view you once they learn the truth?"

Peter shook his head. This wasn't what he wanted, he reminded himself firmly. This hadn't _ever_ been what he wanted. James was his friend, Mr. Potter had only ever been nice to him – he couldn't… wouldn't…

He'd betrayed James once to protect the shop. He'd done it once to help his father. He'd done it once because he'd been scared and desperate and there just hadn't been another way. Sirius was too rash and James was far too caught up in Lily and Remus' troubles, and neither of them would have been able to help and…

He shook his head again. He hadn't wanted this. He couldn't be happy about it, couldn't be happy because his actions had harmed people he cared about, people he called friends.

But…

Sirius had called him brave. Sirius had raised his cup to Peter's bravery. Sirius had noticed him, had complimented him, had maybe even admired him. For the first time in as long as Peter could remember, he had more than just Sirius and James' friendship – he had their _respect_.

And now Bellatrix was threatening to take that away. He couldn't let that happen, couldn't let her do this to him. He couldn't let her take away what he had finally achieved.

* * *

><p>"Why are you talking to Lucius Malfoy about me?"<p>

Vanessa's expression was a mixture of surprise and guilt, and even though it only lasted for a brief second before being replaced by an unreadable mask, James saw it.

Something inside him broke.

He'd honestly hoped that Lily had been wrong. When he'd left her flat, giving her time to talk to Damocles Belby on her own, she had pulled him aside and whispered quickly to him that she'd heard a rumor about Vanessa and Malfoy. He'd refused to believe it at first - but this was Lily, and what would she gain by lying to him? She didn't care that he was dating Vanessa. In fact, she was probably happy about it because it meant he wasn't annoying her with his constant propositions. She had no reason to try to cause trouble for the relationship.

He'd consoled himself with the possibility that Lily was wrong, that the rumors had been just that - rumors. Who knew what lies his opponents would spread in an attempt to dishearten him?

And Vanessa was a target as well, he had reminded himself. After the article the two of them had written, people like Malfoy would be thrilled by any damage to her reputation. An accusation like this one was probably merely intended to cause her distress and make it even more difficult for her to continue her work.

But Lily _hadn't_ been wrong.

Vanessa smoothed her hands along the stiff material of her skirt and asked mildly, "Who told you that?"

"Evans," he said sharply, and her eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure why she was so annoyed that this knowledge came from Lily and he didn't care. This wasn't about Lily, and it wasn't even really about him. It was about Vanessa and Lucius Malfoy and what could she possibly say that would make anything alright?

"I didn't realize you and Evans were such good friends," Vanessa said acerbically, a definite bite to her words.

James pursed his lips, feeling irritated at her deflection. "Who cares if we are?" he demanded. He knew enough about girls to know that they didn't like competition, but Vanessa had always known exactly where he stood on this particular issue. He'd never hid his feelings for Lily from her.

Vanessa shrugged and averted her gaze. Her tone reverted back to one of mild curiosity as she asked, "When did you see her? And how did I come up in conversation?"

"I convinced… well, bribed may be a more accurate… never mind…" James shook his head. He didn't need to explain himself to her. Vannesa was the one who had to defend her own actions, and he wasn't going to allow her to turn this on him.

But she was still staring at him expectantly, so he said succinctly, "I brought Damocles Belby to talk to her about continuing work on the Wolfsbane potion, and she mentioned what she'd heard to me right before I left."

Vanessa's eyes narrowed and she asked thoughtfully, "Did she say who had told her this?"

"Would you stop making this about Evans?" James snapped, his patience wearing thin. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"I was just wondering. It is… odd… that she would know something like that," Vanessa said with a shrug. Her voice was strained, as though she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. She was silent for a moment more, a contemplative look in her eyes, and James was just about to snap at her once more when she said, "You're risking a lot for Evans."

"You knew I was doing that," James answered, frowning in incomprehension. "You knew I wanted Evans to have a fair chance at her program."

"Yes," Vanessa agreed, and a slightly bitter smile curved the corners of her lips. "A fact I found out from the Daily Prophet. Not you."

"So that's it? You're jealous?" James demanded incredulously. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. It didn't make any sense because Vanessa had never acted jealous before. And jealousy was hardly an excuse for… whatever… she was doing with Lucius Malfoy.

"No," Vanessa shot back instantly, her face flushed. James raised one eyebrow, and she paused, took a slow breath, then said in a calmer voice, "Fine, maybe a little. But that's not the point, James. We're _dating_. You can't… you have to think about how things will affect me. Particularly after the article we wrote."

"I didn't think this was any of your business," James said bluntly.

"Ah… yes. Because every girl likes to hear that her boyfriend is risking his neck for some _other_ witch."

"Is it that you don't trust me?" James asked angrily. "Is that it? Do you think I'm going to cheat on you with Evans? Because that's ridiculous."

Vanessa sighed. "I trust you," she replied, irritation once more creeping into her voice. "But this is Evans. On the very first day we met, you told me you were in love with her, but that she didn't love you back. In fact, you said she hated you. Then a few weeks go by and you are suddenly friends with her. Then another few weeks go by and you are risking your own reputation for her. Surely you can see why I would be a little… wary."

"So you decided to talk to Malfoy about me?" James asked skeptically. That didn't even make sense.

"No. No, this wasn't even – it wasn't about Evans. Not really," Vanessa tried to explain. "She just got… dragged into it. But I wasn't talking to Malfoy because…" She trailed off, bit her lip. "It's complicated, James."

"I've got time," James answered, practically spitting out the words. "Explain it to me." She had finally verbally admitted that the rumors were true, and James was somewhat proud of himself for not immediately yelling at her. He wanted to give her the opportunity to explain… and then he would tell her just _exactly_ what he thought of her actions.

"Rabastan Lestrange approached me with an offer," Vanessa answered, sinking into a chair opposite James and resting her elbows on the table separating them. "If I helped him, he said he could get Evans out of the picture."

That simple phrase could mean almost anything, but James' first thought was that Rabastan was threatening Lily with physical harm. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Rabastan might not be as powerful as his brother, but his connections with the seedier aspects of the wizarding world made him just as dangerous.

"I thought…" Vanessa paused, shook her head.

"You thought what?" James asked in a growl, leaning forward, his palms pressing flat onto the table. "That Evans deserved whatever Lestrange would do to her? That I wouldn't care if you went behind my back and made deals with my enemies? That your own insecurity was an excuse for…"

"Would you just shut up?" Vanessa snarled, fury breaking through the calm façade she had worn for most of the conversation. It was the first time James had seen her loose control so thoroughly, and he was momentarily taken aback. She was glaring at him, spots of red appearing on her cheeks, eyes blazing.

James felt at a complete loss for words.

Then he remembered what Vanessa had just admitted to, and his own fury came back in full force. "How could you do this? I thought you were different – better!" he spat. He couldn't understand how Vanessa could get so wrapped up in her own petty jealousy that she would actually put Lily in harm's way.

"And I thought if I could talk to Lestrange, maybe I could get some information from him, something you could use against Malfoy!" Vanessa shot back, surging to her feet once more.

James blinked. "Huh?"

Vanessa rubbed at her eyes with one hand and said, "Lestrange came to me and I saw a perfect opportunity. But after the article we wrote and the stunt I pulled with Morrison, the _only_ way Lestrange was going to trust me was if I made him think that I wanted Evans out of the way. But then Lestrange told Malfoy – who is much more intelligent and much less trusting – and Malfoy approached me. I had to convince him, too, and that was… challenging."

"Challenging?" James repeated numbly, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden amount of information that Vanessa had dumped on him.

"Lestrange doesn't seem to understand much besides ambition and revenge," Vanessa murmured quietly. "At least, that was the read I got off him when we talked. And… I've met people like that before. They believe that everyone else thinks the same way they do, and can't comprehend that some people care about other things. Or they believe that those people are fools… and Gryffindors. I am neither."

"So Lestrange thought you would ruin Evans life as revenge for her interference in our relationship?" James questioned doubtfully. He knew Vanessa was remarkably brilliant at reading people, but was Lestrange actually that dense?

Vanessa was silent for a long moment, then said icily, "Well… you certainly believed that just a couple minutes ago."

James ignored the statement and instead prompted, "But Malfoy wasn't as easily convinced?"

"Like I said, he's smarter." Vanessa sat down again, and James took the seat opposite her. "He would never believe that I would just turn on Evans… that I would side with him… particularly not after that article. I had to make him think that I wasn't changing my opinion about Muggleborns or that awful legislation his family supports, that I wasn't going to side with him on anything in the future… this was a one time thing – I would help him and he'd help me, and then our dealings would be over."

"What did he want in return?" James asked.

Vanessa shrugged. "He didn't say, but no doubt it had something to do with you." She shook her head. "I don't know if he bought it. He was going to contact me, let me know…" She trailed off thoughtfully, then said, "I think he was suspicious."

"Of what?"

"If I made this deal with him, he could very easily blackmail me. All he would have to do is threaten to tell you what I had done, and I wouldn't have much of a choice except to do whatever he wanted in order to buy his silence. He'd have a hold over me for as long as you and I continued dating. I don't think he believed that I was desperate enough to overlook that."

"But if Malfoy did believe you… what would you gain from all this?"

"It wasn't supposed to be Malfoy," Vanessa said, practically seething in frustration. "If it had been _Lestrange_, I could have regained his trust, then maybe gotten him to admit to something damaging, something you could use to get Malfoy to back off Lupin. He would have been much more easily fooled."

James accepted all of this is silence. It took him a moment to fully wrap his head around what Vanessa had been trying to do, but when it finally all made sense his anger flared once again.

"You were trying to trick Lestrange into revealing damaging information? I told you I didn't want that sort of thing. I'm done with this kind of fight."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, James, grow up!" Vanessa hissed back defensively. "This is how the world works. This is how you fight people like Malfoy!"

"This is not how I want to fight them," James retorted, flushing in anger and embarrassment at the derision her tone.

"You don't have a choice!"

"There is always a choice," James said in a tightly controlled voice. He ran a hand through his hair, "And I choose to fight this fairly, out in the open. It's the Gryffindor way to do things."

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "There's a reason people with ambition end up in Slytherin," she snapped.

"What's that supposed to mean?" James demanded. How could she possibly think that only Slytherins had ambition? Or that the Slytherin way of doing things was the only right one?

Vanessa inhaled slowly, then let out a long breath. "James," she said in an even tone, "I know you think you're doing the right thing. But do you really want to take a stand on this if it means that you're going to lose? Think about how much is on the line."

He couldn't argue with that. Sirius and Remus' futures were at stake here, and who knew what Bellatrix Lestrange and Avery would continue to do to Peter? If he didn't win this fight, they would suffer, and James couldn't honestly say that he was alright with taking that risk.

But what else was he supposed to do? He didn't believe in these underhanded maneuvers and secretive manipulations. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life doing this, and if he didn't take a stand on the issue now, it would just get harder and harder to detangle himself from this brand of politics.

"I can't," he said. Anger colored his tone as he continued, "I can't do it, Vanessa, and you _knew_ that. You had no right to do this."

"This is how I fight them," Vanessa answered stubbornly, refusing to give in.

"And what would Malfoy have done to Evans?" James retorted. "Your plan might have gotten useful information, but you were selling her out."

"I wasn't actually going to let him go through with what he had planned," Vanessa snapped back, eyes narrowed. "Do you truly believe that I would hand her over to someone like _him_? Do you really think so little of me?"

"What makes you think you could stop him?" James countered pointedly. "Or that, once he figured out your trick, he wouldn't go after her as revenge?"

"I'm good at what I do," Vanessa answered self-assuredly.

"It was a risk."

"Everything is a risk. You're dealing with men who want to destroy what you believe in, and are willing to use their considerable power and influence to do it. It was a calculated risk and…"

"It wasn't worth it. The risk wasn't…"

"Of course not," Vanessa interrupted bitterly, rolling her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" James asked sharply.

Vanessa didn't answer the question. Instead, she said, "This is how you fight them, James. This is how you win."

"It isn't how I fight," James answered. "I don't want people to agree with me just because I am a Potter and I have money. I want them to agree with me because they think I am _right_. I want them to listen to what I am saying and actually think about it. I want everything out in the open where people can see that I am being honest and fair, that I am not just using my money and family name to trample all over those who are less fortunate."

"Unless it is Lily Evans on the line," Vanessa said coolly.

James opened his mouth to retort, then stopped. "What do you mean?" he asked in an equally cool tone.

"You keep talking about not wanting to use your money and influence in a behind-the-scenes manner, but you have no problem doing it when it is Evans you are trying to help," Vanessa said viciously. "You tried to buy her a fair review…"

"That wasn't cheating!" James protested.

"I know. But it was using the Potter money and the Potter family name to get what you wanted. A fair chance for Evans. And that wasn't out in the open and people didn't know what you were doing, and you had _no_ problem with that."

"That's… that's not deceit…" James argued weakly. "That's just…"

"And at the beginning of this conversation you told me you bribed Damocles Belby to work with Evans on her potion," Vanessa pressed on, ignoring James' defense.

"He didn't want my money!"

"You still offered it!"

James opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the right words, but nothing came.

"Face it, James, you say you are above this kind of fight but you aren't, not where Lily Evans is concerned. You are such a bloody hypocrite!"

Her eyes were suspiciously bright, but James wasn't sure if the unshed tears were due to hurt or anger. The venom in her words made anger seem the more likely culprit, but understanding women still wasn't one of his strong points.

Vanessa continued, "Nothing seems to apply to her. You argue with me at every turn and you have, on multiple occasions, assumed the worst of me because I was in Slytherin. But when you got into a giant argument with Evans after she called Lupin a monster, it took you only days to forgive her and you haven't brought it up since. You had no problem asking me to risk _my_ reputation and _my_ safety to help you with the _Daily Prophet_ article, but you balk at the idea of putting Evans at risk. And now you tell me that you don't want to use your name or money to manipulate people and events, but you're willing to do it for Evans!"

"There is a difference between tricking someone into revealing harmful information to you and buying someone a fair review," James countered.

Vanessa snorted. "Only because you choose to draw the line there." She leaned back in her chair and said tiredly, "I'm trying to help you, James. I'm continually trying to help you."

"And you're continually neglecting to tell me things," James replied. "Not telling me you were in Slytherin even though you knew I was being targeted by a group of Slytherins, investigating Sirius and I behind my back, and now everything with Lestrange and Malfoy. If you're so convinced that you're doing the right thing, why lie about it?"

"I didn't think you'd understand," Vanessa huffed. "I didn't think you'd really be able to see things from my point of view. Clearly, I was right." She pushed her seat back and stood up once more, turning away from James and walking to the other side of the room.

There was a tense silence, and James quietly reflected back on everything Vanessa had said. The differing views of politics and political games was not surprising, even if it was frustrating, and he could at least admit that she was partially right in her accusation about his House prejudices.

But Lily…

He hadn't given much thought to how Lily's presence in his life impacted his relationship with Vanessa. Had it always put a strain on things? Had he always treated her so very differently from the way he treated everyone else in his life? Had he simply never noticed that Vanessa strongly believed – and despised – that he was willing to break his own moral code for the redhead?

_Was_ he willing to break his own moral code for her?

"You said this wasn't about Evans, but… it is, at least a little bit," James murmured.

Vanessa turned to face him. "Yeah," she agreed wearily. "I guess it is."

There was another silence.

"We're over, aren't we?" James asked, the words sticking in his throat. He wasn't sure if he was upset or angry.

Probably both.

Vanessa stared at him for a long moment, then said, "We've been over since Dearborn and Evans called it quits. We just didn't realize it." She picked up her coat and draped it over her shoulders. "Goodbye, James."

He wanted to run after her. She was halfway to the door and he wanted to grab her by the arms and tell her that this wasn't over, that they didn't need to give up just because of this one fight, that he didn't want it to end this way.

This was the first truly adult relationship he'd ever had, and though Vanessa wasn't his first love - that title went to Lily, even if she didn't return the sentiment - she still meant something to him. She meant a lot to him.

House loyalties, differing opinions on political tactics, and jealousy shouldn't have been enough to destroy the relationship. He was stronger than that - and he'd thought they were stronger than that.

But Vanessa walked out the door, and James didn't stop her.


	25. And When I Said I'll Take It

Chapter Twenty-Five: And When I Said I'll Take It

She didn't want to care. It had only been a few weeks, after all. A couple months - a summer fling. What did it matter if she and James had split? She was young - and stunningly beautiful. She would find someone else. Someone _better_.

Vanessa kept telling herself that as she walked along the curving cobblestone path of Diagon Alley. _She would find someone better_. Someone better suited to her personality and her ambitions. Someone better able to understand her opinions and her wishes. Someone just… better.

She and James weren't compatible. In some ways, she'd known that all along. But it had become blindingly clear as they found themselves sinking deeper and deeper into this mess with Muggleborn and werewolf rights.

They just weren't right for each other.

But it wasn't easy to let go. Before James, her life had been simpler - easier. She'd written stories about the incredible arrogance of Quidditch players, and though her articles had left many angry men in her wake, she had never given much thought to the consequences. There had been no need; they would not hurt her.

But the Lestranges and the Malfoys… they were different. They were dangerous.

Before all this, she had been satisfied with her job. She'd taken vindictive pleasure in exposing the hypocritical double standards for Quidditch players, and she had always felt as though what she was doing was important. Her stories had drawn attention to different forms of prejudice.

And yes, scandal and gossip had always been involved, but that was what it took to sell a story.

Then she had started dating James.

Vanessa shook her head and tried to push away all thoughts of the messy-haired wizard, but it was difficult. His flashing eyes and furious expression rose to the forefront of her mind, and she could not forget the way he had spoken to her, the anger in his tone.

She couldn't forget that he hadn't bothered to stop her as she walked out the door.

She sighed.

She didn't want to care.

Two months ago, he'd been little more than a spoiled boy who viewed the world in black and white, who thought that he could fix every problem he saw merely by wishing that things were different. But he'd changed in those weeks - and somehow, he'd changed _her_.

She was no longer content to spend her time on the privilege and follies of Quidditch players when there were so many worse crimes. She knew she had a gift, one that made her unique. Made her special. Even with her reputation for exposing scandal, she was _still_ able to convince others to trust her, to whisper their secrets to her, foolishly believing that they alone could convince her to keep silent.

She nearly tripped over an uneven stone on the path, but caught her balance quickly. She was too obsessed with these thoughts, too lost in her own emotions. She needed to pay more attention to what was around her and stop dwelling on James.

She didn't even want to be thinking about him. Buried beneath the bitter hurt and resentment was the knowledge that this split had been for the best. They were too different. They had been sorted into different Houses for a reason, and although she was of the firm belief that House loyalty and prejudice could be overcome, she had to admit that, in this case, the two of them had some irreconcilable differences.

James would always see her actions as underhanded and sneaky, never fully accepting that the use of such tactics didn't make her unscrupulous. And she wasn't sure she could ever think of his firm determination to fight in the open as anything other than naïveté.

And then there was the issue of Lily.

This was for the best, she was sure of that. Still… she had truly liked – maybe even loved – James. It wasn't easy to let go of that.

She was so completely lost in her own thoughts that she did not see the man step directly in front of her until she had nearly walked straight into his chest. She started and looked up, and he was smirking at her with an expression that sent chills down her spine.

"Lestrange," she said, and it was more of a snarl than anything else.

Rabastan Lestrange grinned at her. His dark eyes traveled up and down the length of her body in a greedy manner and she had to mentally force herself not to flinch away from him. He might disgust her, might even scare her a little, but she wouldn't show weakness in front of him.

"The lovely Miss Lovely," Lestrange said, sweeping his arms out and bending at the waist in a mock bow. His eyes never left her face as he remarked, "You seem… upset."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. She knew she was still flushed from the argument with James, and suspected that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Lestrange could see that, and was clearly taking great pleasure in her misfortune, even though he had no way of knowing what exactly it was.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and forced herself to say coolly, "You have a leak in your little group, Lestrange." He quirked his own eyebrows up in a questioning manner, and she elaborated, "Someone told James that I had spoken to Malfoy about him. About Evans." Anger colored her voice as she added spitefully, "Apparently not all of your friends are as trustworthy as you thought."

Lestrange frowned, accepting that bit of information. He was clearly surprised, and Vanessa wondered briefly _how_ Lily Evans had learned of her conversation with Malfoy. That was a mystery, and the answer might be useful to her in the future, so she tucked the question away to consider later.

Lestrange's look of surprise and confusion was replaced by one of supreme smugness, and he said, "What makes you think I trust any of them? I am a Slytherin, aren't I?"

"Well, obviously you trusted someone," Vanessa spat, "or James wouldn't have learned the truth." She looked away from him, collecting her emotions, and then said in a calmer tone, "But I suppose you wouldn't want to admit to that mistake. Blame it on one of your friends."

"I don't have friends," Lestrange answered. "Just acquaintances. Some more useful than others." She looked at him again, surprised by the astuteness of that particular comment, and found that he was gazing at her with a calculating frown. Then he said, "I take it Potter was not pleased."

Vanessa shrugged, determined not to let her hurt show. Anger was acceptable – anger was an emotion that Slytherins respected. It did not make her weak.

"No," she said, snapping out the word. "He wasn't. All he thinks about is Evans." Even as she said the sentence, she was surprised to find just how much fury seeped into her words. She uttered the redhead's name as though it tasted bad on her tongue.

She _really_ did not like Lily Evans.

Of course, that was an unfair thought – none of this was Evans' fault. But Vanessa didn't really care.

Lestrange laughed softly. "How about you and I have a little chat?" he suggested, his hand coming to rest gently on her elbow. There was something suave about his manner, and something dangerous.

Maybe she had been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't as idiotic as she had originally believed.

But Vanessa wasn't stupid either, and she knew the dangers of going anywhere with Rabastan Lestrange.

Besides, she had nothing to say to him now.

She pulled away from him, and felt a burst of relief as he dropped his own arm and stepped backwards. She refused to let the relief show, though. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he unsettled her.

"I'm not interested," she snarled. "Didn't you hear what I said? It is over between James and I. It is over because _you_ and your little _friends_ couldn't keep your mouths shut."

Lestrange's eyes narrowed and his face flushed darkly at her accusation.

It wasn't a fair accusation anyway. Hadn't she just been thinking moments before that this split with James was inevitable? That it was for the best?

But, _Merlin_, she did not like Lestrange.

Then Lestrange grinned. "I could make the conversation worth your while," he said. He glanced around the path, but Diagon Alley was empty enough at the moment that there was no risk of being overheard. His grin grew, stretching to cover his entire face, and he said, "I can think of at least one thing that might interest you."

Vanessa tilted her chin up. "Oh?" she growled, frustrated that he was so calm, so collected, while she was angry and bitter. She was losing control of the conversation, and needed to get out of it quickly.

"Revenge," Lestrange said.

And just like that, a plan occurred to her.

* * *

><p>"Potter, it is the middle of the night. What are you doing here?" Lily asked tiredly from her spot by the partially open door to her flat. She brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes and stifled a yawn. "Is this going to be a thing with you? Should I start expecting late night visits?"<p>

James didn't answer her question, but instead asked one of his own. "How did it go with Belby?"

Lily blinked at him. "It's nearly two in the morning, Potter. Couldn't this conversation have waited for a more decent hour?" She glanced behind her, into the flat. "I don't want to wake Mary."

Once her back was turned to him, James quickly took the opportunity to step past her. He entered the flat, and though she looked at him with complete surprise, she did not stop him.

He took that as an acceptance of his presence.

"Did you impress him?" James asked. "Does he think you're brilliant?" He forced a smile to his lips, but Lily did not return the smile. She simply stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation of his appearance at her door, and he found himself continuing, "Of course he did."

He laughed, and the laugh sounded strained even to his own ears.

He sighed.

Lily frowned. "Potter, what's wrong?" she demanded. There was an edge of worry to her voice. "Did something happen?"

James folded his arms over his chest and regarded her for a moment. She looked upset, nervous. Like she was expecting some horrible news from him. Some repercussions to his actions, perhaps, or another attack on Muggleborns by the purebloods who seemed intent on ruining her life.

"Who told you about Vanessa and Lucius Malfoy?" he asked.

He had meant to approach the topic in a different manner. He hadn't meant to sound so accusatory. And he really hadn't planned on having this conversation in the middle of the night. But the thought had plagued him since his argument with Vanessa – how had Lily known?

There was no way she should have known. It wasn't like Malfoy or any of his friends would have confided in her. But somehow she knew about this… and that begged the question, what else did she know?

Was her secret knowledge why she was now looking at him with trepidation in her eyes? Did she know that something else was going to happen? Something bad? Something that affected him or her… or Sirius, Remus, or Peter?

Or was he misreading all of this? Was she worried simply because he had woken her up for no apparent reason?

The look of concern in Lily's eyes turned to astonishment, and she started, "Why does that…?" She stopped, shook her head. "Potter, _what_ is going on?" Another pause, then she said in an even softer tone, "Did you talk to her?"

_Her_ clearly meant Vanessa.

"I did," James answered shortly. He turned away from her, and muttered again, "I did." There was a sour taste in his mouth.

"And?" Lily prompted.

For a brief moment, a sneer turned up one corner of James' lips, then he said harshly, "We had a row." Lily was gazing at him sympathetically, and he snapped, "It doesn't matter." He looked down at the ground, and then, when Lily opened her mouth to say something, he cut in quickly, "Evans, who told you?"

"Potter…" Lily started.

He cut her off. "What else did the person say?" And then an idea occurred to him, and he grasped at it frantically, hoping it was true. "Or did you see them? Was that how you knew?"

At least that way no one would have _told_ Lily anything. He wouldn't have to worry about her talking to pureblood fanatics intent on destroying him.

But it was an absurd worry, he reminded himself. Why would any of _them_ talk to Lily in the first place?

Lily shrugged and didn't answer for a long moment. When she finally spoke, it was clear that she was carefully choosing her words.

"I heard the rumor and I wanted to pass it along to you. As a… friendly warning. But it doesn't matter where I heard it. That's irrelevant."

"It's not irrelevant to me," James snapped back. "Vanessa and I split because of it!"

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was not Lily's fault that any of this had happened, and the split had been due to many things, not just this one incident. But James could still see the mixture of anger and hurt in Vanessa's eyes when she called him a hypocrite, pointing out his double standard for Lily, and he just couldn't let this go.

"I… I'm sorry," Lily faltered. She hesitated again, then asked warily, "But if she was working with Malfoy, wasn't that… wasn't that for the best?" There was a quiet diffidence to her voice, and an empathy he didn't fully understand.

"She wasn't working with Malfoy," James retorted, turning away from her and running a hand through his hair. "She was trying to trick him."

"Oh." Lily sounded nonplussed, and James was sure that if he could see her face she would be staring at him with a blank expression. She cleared her throat, then asked, "Then why did you two call it quits?"

"Because I didn't want her to do that. Because I want to fight things out in the open. I don't want to sneak around, lying and manipulating people and…"

He stopped, cutting himself off abruptly and letting out a long sigh. He turned around to face Lily again. There was no reason to go into the details of his break up with Vanessa. Besides, he honestly wasn't sure he could adequately explain it all, even if he wanted to.

"I need to know who told you," he said in a calmer voice. "I need to know if they said anything about me or… or my friends."

"They didn't," Lily answered flatly. "Not really." James continued to stare at her and she shrugged. "Nothing specific. Just that… that Malfoy is after you."

"Who told you?" James said again. He didn't understand Lily's reluctance to just answer the question. He needed to know – didn't she understand _that_? Why was she so determined to keep him in the dark about this?

But it seemed that he had finally pushed too much. "Why can't you just let it go?" Lily demanded angrily, now openly glaring at him.

"Because then Vanessa would be right about me!" James shot back without thinking.

His statement was met with bewildered silence from Lily. She was clearly waiting for more explanation, but he didn't want to talk about this, and he inwardly cursed himself for even bringing it up.

Fortunately, he was saved from having to immediately answer Lily's questioning look by the appearance of Mary. He and Lily had both raised their voices enough to wake her, and she stumbled out of her bedroom and stared at them with bleary eyes.

"Potter?" Mary asked, confused. "What are you…?" She trailed off and shook her head. "Ugh. Merlin, is this going to become a common thing?" she asked, switching her gaze to Lily. "Because if it is, Lils, you are getting your own place."

"Sorry, Mary," Lily said contritely.

Mary shrugged, waived away the apology, and stumbled back to her bedroom.

There was an awkward moment of silence after Mary had left, then James started towards the door. "I should go," he muttered, more to himself than to Lily.

"Wait," Lily said softly, stepping in front of him to block his path. "What did you mean that Vanessa would be right about you?"

"Nothing," James said quickly, dismissively. "Nothing at all."

"That _wasn't_ nothing," Lily protested with narrowed eyes.

"Why can't you just let it go?" James asked, throwing Lily's early words back at her. If she wasn't willing to tell him how she had known about Malfoy, how could she expect him to confide in her about this?

Lily blinked at him, a mixture of hurt and anger in her eyes. And, for a moment, she looked almost exactly like Vanessa had when they'd argued.

His stomach twisted painfully at that thought. He'd dated girls at Hogwarts, and he'd broken up with them, and it had never bothered him this much. He'd never cared about them the way he'd cared about Vanessa. The way he still cared about her.

"Potter," Lily pressed.

"She thinks I have a double standard for you," James said irritably, silently cursing Lily and her endless ability to _push_. Honestly, how could she not have learned by now to just let things go?

"Huh?"

"She thinks I have a double standard for you," James repeated. Now that he had said the words aloud, everything else came tumbling out of his lips. "She thinks I get over fights with you far more quickly than with anyone else. After everything you said _to_ Remus and _about_ Remus, and I just let it go, didn't bring it up again. And I used my money and influence for you twice – first with advancement to the next stage of the potions program and then with Belby…"

"I didn't ask you to do that," Lily cut in.

"You didn't have to," James retorted furiously. "Don't you get it? I don't _want_ to be this kind of person. I don't want to be someone who manipulates, who relies on his money and his family name…"

"You didn't mind doing it at Hogwarts," Lily interrupted.

"I've _changed_," James argued, insulted by her callous words. "At least, I'm _trying_ to. I don't want to be that person anymore, but I keep doing these things for _you_ and I don't even think about it. I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you want, everything you've ever dreamed of, and not only am I willing to give up what I want for that, but it doesn't even occur to me that I am being hypocritical because you're _you_ and…"

That was much, much more than he had wanted to say, and Lily was staring at him, struck silent by the intensity of everything he had just practically shouted at her.

Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked out of her apartment.

* * *

><p>"He's in love with you," Mary said decisively.<p>

Lily stared at her mutely. She had just finished retelling the conversation with James to her friend, and whatever she had expected Mary to say, it was not _that_. She didn't know how to respond, and was now not even entirely sure she wanted Mary's opinion on the matter. Her friend was far too romantic to view this with anything approaching common sense or rationality, and, if given free reign, Mary would no doubt come up with a million reasons why Lily should love him back.

She opened her mouth, realized she had nothing to say, and snapped it shut.

She wasn't even really sure why she was upset by Mary's analysis. James had asked her out plenty of times in the past, and she'd always brushed off those incidents without giving them much thought.

But things were different now. Before, James had been an arrogant prat, and his continued pursuit of her had just been another way for him to get attention. Now they were friends, and his strange behavior bothered her.

And Mary was wrong. She _had_ to be.

"He's always had double standards for you," Mary continued. "All those times he asked you out at Hogwarts… you're the only girl that he kept pursuing. Any other girl who said no… he might have tried once or twice more, but then he stopped."

Lily pressed her hands into the cushion of the sofa and shook her head in mute denial. It took her a moment, and then she said stubbornly, "He didn't fancy me. He just liked the _challenge_."

"That's not true," Mary countered. "I know you thought it was all a game to him… and maybe he _did_ like the challenge, but he liked _you_, too." She tilted her head to the side, studying Lily for a moment, then said, "His rules don't apply to you, but Lils… do your rules apply to him?"

Lily frowned and asked sharply, "What do you mean?"

"The night that James came over, when he was angry, when he was yelling at you…" Mary began, glancing at Lily to see if the redhead would acknowledge the incident.

Lily nodded to indicate that she remembered, and felt a blush spread up her cheeks. Although she still firmly believed that the Marauders had been reckless, careless, and altogether irresponsible, she felt a little bit of shame when she thought about how callously she had spoken to Remus.

She hated feeling ashamed. She hated having to admit that she'd done something wrong.

"That was quite a row you two had," Mary continued. "You were both yelling at each other, and I thought... well, I didn't think it was going to end particularly well. I can't remember the last time I've seen either of you that angry."

"We were pretty upset with each other," Lily agreed.

"You were," Mary said. She paused briefly, then continued, "And then, the next thing I know, the two of you are working _together_ on the potion. You weren't exactly friends, but you were… nice… to him. Or, at least, nicer than usual."

"So?" Lily protested, not understanding why Mary thought this was a big deal. "We talked it through and forgave each other."

Mary laughed outright at that. Lily blinked in surprise, and Mary said with a hint of incredulity in her tone, "Do you really expect me to believe that _you_ – the _Queen_ of Stubbornness – simply _forgave_ James? No more arguments, no more rows, no more yelling at each other in the middle of the night?" She leaned forward and gazed at Lily intently, and then said, "And I don't know the particulars of your argument, Lily, but I know you said some rather unflattering things about Remus. And James… the one thing that never changed during our seven years at school was his steadfast loyalty to his friends. And you're telling me that he just… _got over_… whatever you said about Remus?"

"Yes," Lily said.

But the way Mary had said it, the way she had framed everything… well, it did seem a bit unlikely.

"He's just trying to fight prejudice," she at last. "He just wants to make a difference."

"Really?" Mary asked skeptically. "There are many ways to fight prejudice. There is a lot of prejudice out there that needs to be fought. If all he cares about is making a difference, why is he only focused on fighting the prejudice that _you_ are facing?" She waited a beat for Lily to accept that, then added, "Why do you think he's so determined to fight prejudice in the first place?"

Lily didn't answer.

"You don't forgive people that quickly, Lily," Mary said, risking to her feet, "and neither does James. Not unless something else is going on." She walked around Lily and headed into the kitchen, leaving the redhead alone with her thoughts.

Lily leaned back against the sofa and considered what Mary had said. It was true that she wasn't quick to forgive people unless they were her very close friends. And ever since the end of fifth year, she'd been reluctant to do even that. After all, she'd attempted to overlook her concerns about Severus and her hurt at Petunia's taunts, believing that she could still somehow save those relationships… and _that_ hadn't ended particularly well either time.

So why had she forgiven James?

At the time, she had rationalized her acceptance of him as merely a reflection of how desperate she was to succeed at the Wolfsbane potion. Little else had been going right in her life, and she had desperately needed to figure out the potion because it seemed to be the only way she could prove that she was still good at something. That her life had meaning, purpose… worth.

And so she had swallowed her pride and her anger and accepted James' help because she wasn't sure she had any other choice.

At least, that was what she had told herself at the time.

But James had just broken up with Vanessa. She had seen his anger, and she understood what that meant. He had cared about Vanessa, and this split was hurting him much more than he wanted to admit. That had to be at least part of the reason for his strange visit.

Right?

She sighed and closed her eyes. James had argued with Vanessa because Vanessa had spoken to Malfoy. And now James was afraid that if he didn't know exactly how Lily had learned about Vanessa and Malfoy, if he let her keep this secret, Vanessa would have been right about him; he really did have a double standard for her.

She heard footsteps and opened her eyes in time to see Mary walk back into the room with a cup of cocoa in one hand.

The other witch gave Lily a searching look, and then asked, "Why were you so reluctant to tell James how you knew about Vanessa and Malfoy?" She frowned, furrowing her brow, and pressed, "How _did_ you know?"

Lily chewed her lip, reluctant to tell. Mary wouldn't understand. Mary had never understood anything about Severus. Severus had been too friendly with Mulciber, and after what that… animal… had done to Mary…

Well, it was really no wonder that the other witch was hesitant to believe anything but the worst of Severus.

But she'd never met the younger Severus, the sweet and innocent boy who'd sat next to Lily in the overgrown grass along the bank of the river and shared stories about the magical world and assured the redhead that she would fit in there, that she _belonged_.

But Mary had been one of Lily's best friends for seven years, and she didn't need Lily to vocalize her thoughts. One look at the redhead's face, and Mary knew _exactly_ how Lily had discovered Vanessa's actions.

Her expression darkened.

Lily read the expression correctly and sighed. "I'm sorry," she whispered, averting her gaze. It was hard, knowing that she'd never be completely able to let go of her feelings towards a boy whose friends had tormented Mary.

Mary shrugged. "It's not your fault," she said, but there was a definite edge to her voice. She considered Lily for a moment more, then added, "James is the better man, Lils."

Lily looked up at her and nodded. "I know."

* * *

><p>Lily took a deep breath, pulled together all her courage, and knocked on the door of the large home. She had no reason to be nervous, and she hated the fact that her heart was hammering so rapidly in her chest. It was ridiculous; she was only here to say one thing, and then she would leave…<p>

James opened the door.

"Evans," he said, surprised.

"Potter," she answered. She was a little surprised herself. She had expected a house-elf to open the door. But then she frowned. Did the Potters own a house-elf? She wasn't sure – she couldn't remember if James had ever mentioned one. Still… didn't all prestigious pureblood families have one?

James cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

The question tore her thoughts away from house-elves and pureblood culture, and before she could rethink her plan, she said quickly, "It was Sev-Snape. Snape was the one who told me about Malfoy and Vanessa. He was worried that they were going to try to hurt me and he… he wanted to warn me."

James' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You can't tell _anyone_," Lily continued hurriedly. "If anyone finds out that he told me…" She stopped, and wondered vaguely why she was so determined to protect her former best friend. But the answer to that came easily enough: _he'd_ been trying to protect _her_. Of course, his methods still appalled her, and she knew she would never be able to turn her back on what she believed in, even if it was the only way to save herself. But he had cared enough to _try_, and that still counted for something.

Or did it?

"Why not?" James demanded harshly. "If he knows anything else, if he can help us…"

"He won't," Lily said with conviction. "He won't help us." Well, that wasn't entirely true, so she clarified, "He won't help _you_."

James nodded a bit reluctantly. There was too much truth in that statement for him to even attempt to deny it.

"You can't tell anyone," Lily said again. She knew he didn't understand how important this was, and she needed to _make_ him understand.

"Why do you still care about him?" James demanded, disgust lacing his voice. "You're better than him. He's… he's _nothing_. He's just a slimy Slytherin who doesn't care about anything but the Dark Arts and his own supremacy."

"He's my friend," Lily said automatically. But that wasn't true, so she let out a deep breath and said, "He _was_ my friend." She chewed her lip and continued to gaze earnestly at James. "I can't just… I don't want to care but I…"

She thought abut her conversation with Mary. She hadn't offered Mary any explanation for her need to protect Severus, and Mary hadn't bothered to ask. They'd been through this before at Hogwarts, multiple times, and Mary would never understand.

And then she thought about Sirius. Her mind drifted back to the conversation they'd had all those weeks ago. His sharp words about the end of her friendship with Severus, about the pain that still lingered two years later… He was the only one who seemed to understand just how much that incident by the lake had affected her.

James shook his head in disbelief. "I don't get you," he said coolly.

"But Black does," Lily mused, more to herself than to James.

James gazed at her with unconcealed surprise, clearly wanting some explanation for her comment. But she shook her head and didn't answer.

Finally, James sighed. "Alright," he said, "I won't tell anyone." A slight pause, then, "And thank you for telling me."

Lily swallowed back the uncomfortable lump in her throat and said, "I'm sorry about what happened with Vanessa. I'm sorry for anything I did to… to ruin what you had."

"You didn't do anything," James answered quietly. He glanced behind him, then asked, "Would you like to come in?"

But Lily shook her head. She could tell that he'd made the offer because it was the polite thing to do, but he wasn't ready to spend more time with her. And she wasn't ready to have any sort of a conversation with him. She didn't feel entirely comfortable in his presence, and she had a suspicion that they both needed time to work things out on their own.

"No, thank you," she said. "I need to… I have things I need to do."

James shrugged, a look of relief passing momentarily through his features. Lily found herself smiling inwardly at that. The old James wouldn't act so unsure, and wouldn't be so relieved that they weren't rushing into more in depth conversations.

The old James would probably have asked her out as soon as he had broken up with Vanessa.

And the old Lily would never have come to his door in the first place. The old Lily wouldn't have been willing to trust him with the truth.

"So it seems that most of our conversations are going to happen in doorways," James said finally, an awkward smile tugging at his lips.

Lily grinned. "Perhaps," she agreed as she started to walk away from him, "but you'll notice that _I_ have enough common courtesy not come by in the middle of the night."

* * *

><p><em>Some men really are idiots.<em>

James read the first line of the letter with a slight frown. He wasn't sure whether or not that comment was aimed at him. Vanessa had certainly been upset and angry at him when they had spoken two days ago. He didn't blame her – but he also didn't think that she would be the type to rant at him in a letter.

_I know what you think of my tactics. I know what you think of most Slytherins, and you're wrong on both accounts. But while I may be able to change your mind about the latter, I know I can't change your feelings about the former. _

_You have loyal friends. That is something to be proud of, something to cherish. Friends as loyal as yours are rare. And you are about to lose Black and Lupin, and maybe even Pettigrew. You know as well as I do that Malfoy won't stop and Black won't give in and this won't end well._

_Fortunately for you, Rabastan Lestrange falls into the category of men who are idiots._

_You can burn the rest of the letter if you want – part of me thinks you might do it. I am sure what I did would appall you. But before you rage about how I am going against your express wishes, I want to make it exceedingly clear that I did not do this for you. I want to fight this battle, too, and while I know that we are on the same side, that does not mean that I am going to change who I am and how I operate just because it isn't Gryffindor enough for you._

_I am sorry for how things ended between us. And as it turns out, Lestrange is a bit smarter than I gave him credit for. But he knows the old adage about a woman scorned, and thinks it applies here._

_Maybe it does. Maybe I should hate you. Maybe I do hate you. But I hate him more._

_And after an unpleasant conversation with him, I managed to obtain some information that may be of use to you. You can do whatever you want with it. I think it would be quite interesting if it ended up in the Daily Prophet, but perhaps it will serve you better in other ways. I can think of at least one person who will do anything to make sure it stays hidden._

_You know what is at stake. And I won't tell you what to do. It is your decision, and you can fight this battle any way you want, but I will caution you to at least think about who is going to pay the price._

He didn't want to read the rest of the letter. He didn't know what kind of information Vanessa had obtained, but he did know that she was exceptionally good at what she did. Whatever she had learned from Lestrange, he had a feeling it would be enough to protect his friends.

And if he looked at it… well, it would likely be enough to break any resolve he had left.

This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how he wanted to fight. He was a Gryffindor…

But as she had said, he had loyal friends. Friends that he cherished, friends that he wanted to protect, no matter what. And they were the ones who would pay the price.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he continued reading.


	26. I Meant As Is part one

AN: I know it has been an unforgivably long time. All I can say in my defense is that, when you are attempting to obtain a PhD, you don't always have full control over your time...

Chapter Twenty-Six: I Meant As Is (part one)

Autumn was in the air. It wasn't quite September – still a few more days until the end of August – but autumn had come a bit early. In the morning, the air was crisp and cool, and smelled of dried leaves. The trees were starting to change their color, hints of red and gold appearing in the green foliage. And every night, as the sun fell, the wind picked up and rattled through the branches and along the sidewalks.

Lily loved the autumn. Growing up in Cokeworth, it was the only season that really had a clear beginning. Towards the end of November, every day started getting just a lit bit colder and a little bit more gray, but there was nothing to really announce the arrival of winter. It was the same – yet opposite – with spring and summer; starting near the middle of March, every day was a little bit warmer and a little bit more damp, and then towards the end of June the dampness disappeared and the sun began to shine just a little bit more each day. But there was no clear delineation between the seasons. One day she would simply look around and realize that the season had changed, but she could never identify _when_ that change had occurred.

Autumn was different. Autumn did not give any warning prior to its arrival, and did not come at exactly the same time each year, but it was impossible to miss the change. The feel and scent of the air was quite simply, suddenly, and abruptly different.

There was a clear beginning to the season.

And for Lily, autumn was the beginning of everything new. It was the beginning of each school year, and of the possibilities associated with Hogwarts and witchcraft and education.

At the moment, though, autumn was also the end.

Only two more days until the end of the potions program. She'd made some progress with the potion, though not as much as she had hoped. It didn't surprise her – she'd changed her mind so late in the program that she couldn't have expected to have any brilliant breakthroughs. And besides, the theory of the potion was far more complicated than she had originally realized, and it would be a long while before she had anything actually workable.

But still… she _had_ made progress.

Not, of course, that it made any difference. She'd already been told that she could not proceed to the next stage of the program, but James had managed to convince her that maybe that didn't matter. She had impressed Damocles Belby and he had – with great hesitance, reluctance, and some concern – agreed to allow her to be his apprentice for the month of September. He had said it would be a trial run, a bit like an extended job interview. If she continued to impress him, he would consider allowing her to apprentice with him for even longer.

He had been quick to warn her that, as a rather antisocial person, he did not like having apprentices and had yet to find anyone whose presence he could stand for more than nine months. He doubted she would be an exception.

She was determined to change his mind on that.

Emma leaned against the desk and stared at Lily's cauldron. "Is it supposed to look like that?" she asked. "It's so… bland."

Lily looked at her concoction and nodded. "I spent a good eighteen hours trying to keep it from exploding every time I added the bloodroot," she answered, shooting Emma a quick grin. "I'll take bland over volatile and turbulent any day." She jerked her head towards Emma's workstation. "And how is your potion going?"

"Very well," Emma said with a satisfied smile. "I think I have a real chance for advancement." She frowned, her expression faltering, then hurried on to say, "Oh, Lily, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Don't," Lily interrupted, waiving away Emma's awkward apology. "Don't apologize for your success. I am happy for you, really."

Emma's frown deepened. "You're gifted at this," she said quietly. "At potions. If anyone should have success, it's you."

Lily shrugged. It was a bittersweet ending, and she couldn't deny that she was angry at how carelessly Healer Lanwick and Healer Akhlys had ripped away her hopes and dreams. But she couldn't change it, either, and there was nothing left to do but make the best of the situation.

She would simply have to become a world famous potioneer on her own, and when she was renowned and respected for her skills, the two Healers would realize how badly they had misjudged her.

And it would make Eliza Greengrass furious.

At that thought, Lily cast a quick look towards the blonde pureblood. Though she hated to admit it, Eliza had done spectacularly well on her potion. There was no doubt that she would move on to the next stage of the program and – though her personality and beliefs were, in Lily's opinion, downright despicable – if she was to be judged merely on her potions talents alone, she did deserve the success.

"It's strange that it is the end, isn't it?" Emma murmured.

"Yes," Lily agreed. "I feel like I've done nothing but think about potions for the past three months. I've even dreamt about them."

Emma laughed. "I know," she replied. "It will be odd, having the next few weeks of holiday." The next stage of the program didn't start until October, and the students weren't notified until the middle of September as to whether they were even going to progress.

Lily grimaced. "You have a holiday," she said pointedly. "I do not. I am expected to start working for Belby as soon as I finish here."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You said he asked you when you wanted to start, and _you_ were the one who chose the date. It's your own fault you don't have any time away from potions."

Lily flushed slightly. "Well… yeah."

Emma fell silent, her eyes drifting over the other work stations, and Lily turned her attention back to the ingredients spread out on her desk. The redhead began sorting them and jotting down notes in her notebook, all the while occasionally looking at her potion and adjusting the heat. Emma's own potion needed to sit for another hour, and she seemed content to simply stand there and stare about the classroom.

Once or twice, Lily let her own mind wander. Petunia's wedding was fast approaching, and the tension and animosity between the two sisters seemed to grow more and more with every day. Petunia didn't want Lily to attend the wedding, and at this point, Lily didn't really want to be there. But their mother refused to allow this, and neither sister would go against that. Lily would be there, and it would make both of them unhappy.

Lily wanted to be happy for Petunia, she really did. She despised Vernon and his family, but if he made Petunia happy then that had to count for something. But it was hard, particularly every time Vernon tossed some callous and unflattering comment her way.

Fortunately, she didn't have to interact with him much.

Alice had picked a date for her own wedding, and though it was still six months away, she was nearly overflowing with excitement. Lily was _actually_ happy for her, and was always more than willing to listen to ideas for the wedding, questions concerning gowns and flowers, and complaints about Frank's mother.

Sometimes, though, hearing Alice gush about Frank left a feeling of emptiness, of loneliness, in Lily's chest. She'd gotten past the breakup with Caradoc, but she still thought about him on occasion. She didn't miss _him_ specifically, but she did miss the feeling of closeness that she'd had with him.

"Lily?" Emma asked suddenly, pulling Lily from her thoughts, "are you… alright? Your expression was quite serious."

Lily nodded. "Just thinking about things," she said.

Emma accepted that without question, and Lily went back to her potion.

* * *

><p>"You're being a bloody idiot!"<p>

"No, I'm trying to be _realistic, _Padfoot. You can't just pretend that this isn't happening."

"Don't be daft, Moony. Running isn't going to solve anything, and I don't fancy chasing you to whatever part of the Earth you decide to make your home. Knowing you, it won't have alcohol or pretty girls. I'm not living in a place like that. It will have nothing but _books_."

"See? You're _still_ joking about it!"

"I _never_ joke about my hatred of books!"

Remus groaned and flopped onto his bed. His room was a mess of clothing and papers and, yes, even _books_, tossed about haphazardly. He'd been attempting to pack, but Sirius' appearance had put those plans on hold.

"I'm going on holiday," Remus said wearily. "I'm not… it isn't like I'm moving away forever."

Sirius folded his arms over his chest. "You're going on holiday?" he asked skeptically. "_Really_? That is the excuse you're going with? Holiday?"

"Padfoot…"

"Did Pracket give you time off from work?" Sirius pressed. "Because he didn't exactly seem like the type of bloke who would do that."

Remus didn't answer for a moment. He didn't want to lie to Sirius, but he'd never wanted to have this conversation, either. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't any of his friends' business. He'd already caused enough trouble for all of them; he saw no reason to add to it.

"But maybe he's changed," Sirius continued, practically sneering. "He did seem like such an _open-minded_ man."

Remus pressed his hand flat against the bed and bit his lip to keep from snapping out a response. This was an argument he couldn't possibly win, but that didn't mean he was going to give in, either.

"You'll just go on holiday for a few months and then come back and resume working in the bookstore like nothing has changed and…"

"He sacked me, alright?"

Remus' statement caught Sirius off-guard, and he stood there, mouth open, no words coming out. There was something comical about his surprise, but any amusement Remus might have taken from that was quickly pushed aside as a look of anger washed over Sirius' features.

"When?" Sirius demanded.

"It doesn't matter," Remus answered. He got up and walked past Sirius, towards the pile of clothing on the chair by the window, and began folding the clothes.

He shouldn't have told Sirius this anyway. Knowing his friend – and Remus _did_ know him, knew him quite well, actually – Sirius would lose his temper and do something incredibly stupid.

And what exactly did he think he could do about it, anyway? Pracket had the right to hire and sack whomever he wanted, and Remus didn't have any legal right to protest.

"So that's it? You're not even going to fight him? Just let him sack you and…" Sirius glanced around the room in distaste, "_run_?"

"Fight him?" Remus scoffed, keeping his back to Sirius as he angrily folded a pair of trousers. "How?"

"I don't know, just think of something! Stand up for yourself," Sirius shot back.

Remus laughed darkly at the irony of that comment. It seemed as though Sirius and James were always demanding that he stand up for himself – unless he was disagreeing with _them_. Then he was just supposed to let go of whatever he thought and agree with their opinions.

"We're you even going to tell us that you were leaving?" Sirius demanded.

"Of course I was going to tell you!" Remus growled, glancing over his shoulder briefly before stepping around Sirius and throwing the folded pair of trousers onto the bed.

"You're packing," Sirius pointed out dryly. "Kind of makes it seem like you're planning on taking off tonight."

Remus rolled his eyes and turned to face Sirius then. "How is it possible that you lived with me for seven years and never noticed that I always pack at least two weeks in advance?" he asked. He sat down on the bed again and sighed. "Anyway, it's not like Pracket didn't have a point."

"A point? The guy was a complete prat…"

"I know," Remus interrupted, cutting off Sirius' words. "But that wasn't why he sacked me. He sacked me because I kept missing days, kept getting sick."

"Because of the full moon! It's not your fault that you were bitten," Sirius protested.

Remus chewed his lip for a moment, then said, "It's not Pracket's fault, either." He hesitated, then said, "Padfoot, you're only looking at this through the lens of how it affects me. You want everything to be fair for me, and that… I appreciate that, I do. But Pracket… yes, he was a very unpleasant boss and no, I didn't like the way he treated me, but at the end of the day, he deserves to have an employee that shows up on schedule. He has to be able to rely on me, and once a month… once a month, he _can't_."

"That's rubbish," Sirius muttered.

"No, it's not," Remus countered. He thought about saying more, but then decided against it. Sirius wouldn't understand. He and James were true and loyal friends, but neither of them were capable of taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture. This was a complicated issue, and there was no simple answer.

It was unfortunate, but Remus knew he would spend the rest of his life caught in this dilemma. His lycanthropy would prevent him from finding work in the magical world, but any work he found in the Muggle world would be complicated by the fact that he couldn't tell anyone why he had to miss work so frequently.

"You always do this," Sirius grumbled, sitting on the bed next to Remus.

"Do what?"

"Act like a martyr," Sirius said. Remus started to protest, but Sirius continued quickly, speaking over him, "You're not leaving because of Pracket, and you're not leaving because you want a holiday. You're leaving because of Malfoy's threats, because of what he said he'll do to us. You're sacrificing your own happiness for everyone else's."

Remus frowned, then asked softly, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm _not_ happy here?"

Sirius looked at him sharply, an expression of surprise and ill-disguised hurt on his features.

Remus averted his own gaze.

"Well," Sirius said coldly, "I suppose that is a different issue. If you don't want to be here anymore, I won't stop you from leaving."

But he made no move to get up and leave the room.

"I don't want to just… wait," Remus said finally. He forced himself to look back at Sirius, and was relieved to find that Sirius was now determinedly not looking at him. At least he wouldn't have to make eye contact while he said this.

"Wait for what?"

"For everything," Remus answered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "For Malfoy to come after me, for Lily to finish the potion, for you and James to come up with a plan. All of these things are happening around me – things that will have a huge impact on my life, and I am just… waiting. It's my life, I want to have some control over it."

"And you think running away is the solution?" Sirius asked skeptically.

"I can't fight Malfoy," Remus said.

"James and I can," Sirius argued passionately. "And we _will_. We aren't going to let him get away with this."

Remus stared at him for a long moment, then asked, "Did you read the _Daily Prophet_ today?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "No, why?" he asked.

Remus got up again and walked over to his desk. He pushed aside a few books and pulled out the newspaper, then turned back to Sirius. "I spoke to James this morning. He and Vanessa Lovely broke up. He tell you that?"

Sirius nodded.

"Did he tell you that Vanessa talked to Rabastan Lestrange? Got some damaging information out of him?"

"Yeah," Sirius said. "We talked about it, although he didn't tell me what it was." He looked thoroughly put out by James' reticence to discuss the details of the information with him, and Remus forced back a smile at that. Sirius wasn't used to James withholding information, and this clearly annoyed him.

But Remus understood. James still wasn't sure if he was going to use the information in the manner that Vanessa had suggested, and was probably concerned that Sirius might do something rash with it if given the opportunity and the right incentive. This was a delicate situation; so much was at stake, and beyond that, James seemed to view his choice on how to use the information as a choice between being true to his Gryffindor roots or accepting a more Slytherin point of view.

Remus glanced down at the newspaper and sighed. James might have been unsure what he was going to do before, but this… this changed everything.

He tossed the newspaper to Sirius. "Rabastan Lestrange must have eventually realized that Vanessa was planning on turning on him, and decided to do something about it," he said flatly. "Or maybe he told his brother or Malfoy what he had done and they realized the implications. Either way..."

Sirius looked down at the article and gasped. "Bloody hell," he swore under his breath.

"You can't stop Malfoy, Padfoot. Maybe you can delay him. But this problem isn't going away. They are going to continue with their agenda, and they are going to do whatever is necessary to win. And Merlin help anyone standing in their way."

Sirius swore again, then crumpled the newspaper in his fist and looked up at Remus. "So you're going to leave the country? For how long? Forever? Running isn't going to help either, Moony."

Remus shrugged. "I'm not going to just sit around and wait for the attack to come," he said firmly.

Sirius stared at him, a strange light in his eyes. "Then _don't_," he said fervently. "Don't run, and don't just sit here and wait. They want a fight? Then let's give them one."

* * *

><p>The argument with Sirius still echoed in Remus' head as he ducked into Mr. Pettigrew's shop. When he'd been unable to give a firm answer to Sirius' pleas, the other wizard had stalked away in a huff. Subtlety had never been one of Sirius' strong points, and he'd made it quite clear what he thought of Remus' hesitancy.<p>

Remus glanced around the shop. Although it had been rebuilt after the fire, some of the back wall was still slightly darker than the normal, a lingering remnant of the flames that had nearly destroyed everything.

Remus shivered as he wondered what would have happened if Mr. Pettigrew had been caught in those flames.

"Hey, Moony."

Remus turned at the sound of his nickname and gave Peter a quick smile. "Hey. The shop looks good. I'm glad you were able to rebuild and replace your father's inventory so quickly."

Peter nodded, but didn't smile. "Yes," he said. "It was good." He glanced around, but none of the patrons appeared to have any questions for him and his father didn't need his help, so he turned back to Remus. "Are you not working today?"

"I… uh… no." Remus floundered for a moment, not wanting to get into the details of _that_ particular issue, then cleared his throat and said, "I don't work at the bookstore anymore."

Peter gave him a long, appraising look. He tactfully did not press the topic, for which Remus was absurdly grateful, but instead said, "Did you read the _Prophet_?"

Remus nodded glumly. "I spoke to James. He was… upset." That was an understatement. James had been far more than upset – he'd been downright livid. His conversation with Remus had been filled with accusations and threats and numerous plots for revenge against the people who had done this. But the conversation had also been rushed – James had been in a hurry to get to St. Mungo's – and Remus hadn't been able to gauge just how serious James was about his plans.

"I don't understand why they would have done something like that," Peter said. His words were bland, vague, and… careful. There was something about his expression that made Remus uneasy, but the werewolf ignored that emotions, assuming it to be nothing more than his own paranoia.

It often seemed as though the entire world was out to get him, but he couldn't allow that distrust to extend to his friends.

Remus sighed. "James said that Vanessa had manipulated Rabastan Lestrange into giving him information."

"What kind of information?"

"I don't know," Remus replied. "Something bad." Peter looked thoughtful, and Remus paused, waiting to see if he would say anything. But when the rat Animagus remained silent, Remus added, "James thought what happened was revenge for that."

Peter nodded. "They are dangerous," he said softly. "And they are known for wanting revenge." His expression darkened somewhat, and Remus felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. What had happened to Vanessa could only serve as a reminder of what had nearly happened to his own father… and what could still happen, in the future.

Remus winced inwardly as that thought naturally led to feelings of guilt. If Malfoy came after him, Peter would be dragged into this mess as well. And hadn't the other wizard already sacrificed enough?

"How's your father?" Remus asked finally.

Peter shrugged. "I tried to convince him to go on holiday," he admitted slowly, "but he doesn't think… doesn't understand… that the Malfoys and Lestranges are a threat to him." He snorted, and said bitterly, "He called Bellatrix Lestrange a _child_."

Remus nodded. He studied Peter a moment longer. There was something concerning about Peter's expression, but Remus just couldn't figure out what it was. Something seemed wrong, out of place…

Peter cleared his throat. "He won't listen to me because I am his son and he thinks that, as my father, he knows best." Again, the bitterness seeped into his tone as he added, "I thought about asking James or Sirius to talk to my dad. He might listen to them, might actually respect their opinion."

"That's a good idea," Remus said automatically.

Peter gave him a skeptical look.

It wasn't a good idea, and they both knew it. James and Sirius would never agree to convince someone to _run_ from a fight. It wasn't in their nature to do that, and they didn't take being pushed around lightly. For all their wonderful traits – and Remus would immediately state that both of his friends had many, many good characteristics – lately he had started to believe that they just didn't understand what it was like for everyone else. Everyone who wasn't a wealthy, prestigious pureblood.

But perhaps that was an uncharitable thought. Sirius had lost his family, after all. He had not come out of this unscathed, and he'd been forced to accept the harsh realities of pureblood mania from a very early age.

"I'm sorry, Moony," Peter said, shaking his head and forcing a smile to his face once more, "I've turned this conversation to unpleasant topics, haven't I?"

His smile was easy, good-natured, and a bit foolish, the way it always had been at Hogwarts, and Remus relaxed, offering his own smile in return. But the smile only lasted for a moment, and then his expression fell. "I think the attack on Vanessa Lovely did that," he said softly.

* * *

><p>"You bloody fool!"<p>

The sound of Rodolphus' angry exclamation drew Sewelyn Lestrange's attention from the letter in hand, and she rose from her seat by the fire and crossed to the doorway of her parlor. Her two sons were standing in the hallway, glaring furiously at each other and, it seemed, coming dangerously close to blows.

She drew back slightly. She had already eavesdropped on their conversation once in the recent past, and while that had been informative, she still found the action distasteful.

But she was a little concerned by the growing animosity between her two sons. They had never been friends when they were younger, and their years at Hogwarts were generally marked by long periods of distance with the occasional strained conversation. But this anger, these fights… _that_ was new.

Once again, Sewelyn was struck by the worry that everything she and her husband had worked for was crumbling before her very eyes. Her sons – well, Rodolphus, at least – should have been able to inherit the reigns of leadership from her husband and Abraxas Malfoy. But while Lucius was poised to accept the task, with every passing day Sewelyn feared that her own sons might lose it. And then who would replace them? Would Lucius choose to work instead with the Averys? The Mulcibers? The Notts?

The Notts at least had pure enough blood, and wealth that rivaled that of even the Lestranges. But the others would be an affront to the Lestrange bloodline, and Sewelyn could not bear that.

"Calm down, Rodolophus. I didn't leave any trace…"

"Who cares? After what you did to her…" A pause, then, "You daft _idiot_. This required _subtlety_."

"She was going to turn on us…"

"If you had listened to the rest of us and allowed Lucius Malfoy to handle this, she wouldn't have had that information in the first place, would she? But no, you were so convinced that you could do this that you just ignored…"

"Stop speaking to me as though I am a child, _brother_."

"Stop acting like one!" Another pause. "Why didn't you just kill her? She still poses a threat to us."

"She won't speak out against us, not if she values her safety."

"Don't be so sure, Rabastan. I think there may be more Gryffindor in her blood than either of us realized."

Sewelyn walked back to the armchair where she had left the folded letter. She lifted it, carefully smoothing out the creases, and scanned the writing once more.

James Potter was requesting an audience.

She glanced towards the door of the parlor. She had seen the article in the _Daily Prophet_ and, though Rabastan might believe that there was nothing to tie him to the crime, she had easily recognized it as his handiwork. And she knew that Vanessa Lovely had been dating James Potter, though from her younger son she had learned that they had split recently. But the Potters were Gryffindors. James' misguided sense of loyalty would flare up now, and who knew what he would do.

What did James Potter want from her?

She crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire.

She was a Lestrange, and though he might be a blood traitor, he was still a Potter, and she would extend the same civility and courtesy to him as she did to all other prominent purebloods. She would be polite and proper, and she would hear what he had to say.

And then she would crush him.

* * *

><p>The Healers hadn't let James see Vanessa. He couldn't say that he was family because he wasn't. He couldn't say that he was her boyfriend, because he'd stopped being that, too. He honestly wasn't even sure he could claim to be a friend anymore. He still cared about her, and he thought that she cared about him, but where did that leave them?<p>

The guilt clung to him. There was anger, of course. Flashes of white-hot fury raged through his body, pounding in his ears and filling him with the desire to lash out at anything and everything around him. But the guilt was even stronger. It dampened the anger, pressed it down, overwhelmed it. There were brief moments when all he could feel was the all-encompassing guilt, and it was threatening to drown him.

He clung to the anger every time he felt it, and it served as a lifeline, keeping him from losing himself in that guilt.

He had done this to her.

It might not have been his hand that delivered any of the blows, but what difference did it make? He was still responsible – this was his fault.

His mind wandered back to their final argument.

_You had no problem asking me to risk my reputation and my safety to help you with the Daily Prophet article, but you balk at the idea of putting Evans at risk._

He'd initially only thought of that accusation in terms of what it meant about his feelings for Lily. He'd seen it as commentary on how much he valued the redhead, how he put her ahead of everyone else, even the girl he was actually dating. He'd somehow completely failed to miss the other part of the comment – the warning.

Vanessa had understood the risks of what she was doing, what he had asked her to do, and she'd done it anyway. She'd made the choice to put her own safety in jeopardy, both for him and for the ideals that he had convinced her were worth defending. But James was starting to think that he'd never truly appreciated just how much danger he had put her in.

His mind wandered even further back, to the weeks when Shaw had been furious at him, when Quidditch practice had been grueling and unpleasant. Daphne had explained it then, explained that James had put the team in jeopardy without even realizing it.

_The last name Potter carries a lot of weight – people are going to listen to you. They're going to care about the things you say, the things you believe. Malfoy isn't going to risk a backlash by going after you directly – not if he can discredit you by going after the people you associate with._

Like Remus. Like Lily. And now like Vanessa.

He had put his friends in danger.

But he was James Potter, and he was going to fight back.

With that thought in mind, he squared his shoulders and allowed the Lestrange family house-elf to lead him through the grand manor towards a small sitting room. Two armchairs and a loveseat formed a semi circle in front of a fireplace with an ornate mantle. Several candles floated near the ceiling in a decorative patterns, their light casting faint shadows along the plush green carpet. The far wall was lined with large windows that looked out over the rolling estate.

Sewelyn Lestrange was sitting in one of the chairs.

She rose to her feet as James entered the room. She was dressed in dark green robes that matched the green of her eyes and the green of the carpet and window drapes, and her brown hair was pulled into an elegant up-do that accentuated her slender nose and high cheekbones. She was beautiful, _regal_, and James had the sudden suspicion that she was probably the most dangerous person he had ever faced.

"Mr. Potter," she said, extending her hand. "Welcome to the Lestrange Estate."

"Thank you, Mrs. Lestrange," James replied, surprised by how cordial she was. Although she probably didn't know the details of why he was here, she had to assume that it wasn't anything good. Particularly not after what had happened to Vanessa. Yet she was acting as though he was simply a guest visiting for tea.

"Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing towards the vacant armchair.

James slipped into the armchair and willed himself to relax. He was tense, wary, but he didn't want it to show.

He looked down at the parchment in his hands. He'd carefully copied Vanessa's letter and then stored the original in a safe place. He'd left out the beginning of the letter, of course, seeing no reason to share the personal matters she had addressed. But the information she had given him…

_That_ he had included.

"What can I do for you?" Mrs. Lestrange asked. "I was surprised to receive your owl. I do not believe the Potter family and the Lestrange family have every been close friends."

"No," James said wryly, "we haven't."

"A pity, really."

James thought it undoubtedly _wasn't_, but refrained from saying so. Instead, he asked, "Are you aware of the threats Lucius Malfoy has made against my friends?"

Mrs. Lestrange shook her head slightly. "I am not," she said. "I do not make it my business to know about the affairs of others."

That was a blatant lie, and James debated calling her on it. But he decided against that, as well, and pressed on, "And do you consider it your business to know about what happened to Vanessa Lovely?"

Mrs. Lestrange's expression arranged itself into one of sympathy, and she said, "I read about the attack in the _Daily Prophet_. I did not know her personally, of course, but I understand that you and Miss Lovely were… close."

The statement was in past tense, which meant that Mrs. Lestrange knew they were no longer dating. James wondered briefly how much she knew – how much had Rabastan and Rodolphus told her?

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. "We were close. We still are."

"My sympathies, then, on the tragedy." The words were sweet, kind, and sounded incredibly sincere. It gave James pause, and he couldn't help but wonder, if only for a brief second, if she actually meant it. She didn't seem like the type of person who would go about physically attacking people, but then, that might simply have been because she had people to do her dirty work for her.

"I have reason to believe that Rabastan was involved in the attack," James said flatly.

Mrs. Lestrange did not even blink, did not show surprise or even anger. She merely inclined her head. "Is that so? What is your proof?"

"Proof is irrelevant," James replied.

An amused smile curled Mrs. Lestrange's lips. "Not all of us believe that."

"Really? Proof doesn't seem to be necessary when the attacks are on my family," James countered.

Mrs. Lestrange studied her fingernails idly as she replied, "You can hardly hold me accountable for the _Daily Prophet's_ actions, Mr. Potter." Her voice was just slightly harder as she added, "And I do not take accusations against my son lightly."

"And I don't take attacks or threats against my friends lightly," James replied.

"Good," Mrs. Lestrange said softly, the amused smile back on her lips. "It would have lowered my opinion of you if you did."

"Well, that's a relief," James said sarcastically. "I would hate to have lost your good opinion."

The comment did not bother Mrs. Lestrange. If anything, it appeared to amuse her even more. Her smile grew, and there was a definite twinkle of laughter in her eyes.

"Lucius Malfoy has threatened Remus Lupin and Sirius Black," James said flatly, "Your son hurt Vanessa Lovely, and your daughter-in-law orchestrated an attack on Mr. Pettigrew's toy shop."

"Malfoy's actions are not my concern," Mrs. Lestrange replied calmly. "You have no proof that Rabastan was in any way involved in the attack and poor Miss Lovely, and as for Bellatrix…" She paused, trailing off, and James was surprised to see the tiniest bit of distaste in her features, "If you have a problem with her, I suggest you talk to her. None of this is my concern."

"Actually, it is," James said. "I'm making it your concern." And he handed her the parchment he had brought.

Mrs. Lestrange took it, still wearing her expression of amusement, and read quickly. Her expression barely wavered, but James caught the miniscule tightening of her mouth and the slight narrowing of her eyes. She was angry – and afraid.

Then she looked up at him, and said, "How very Slytherin of you."

James fought back a shudder. It _was_ very Slytherin of him. It was underhanded and manipulative and everything he was fighting against. But Vanessa was in St. Mungo's, and the guilt from that was enough to make do this.

Besides, he reasoned to himself, it wasn't as though he was the one starting this. He was merely trying to force the others to fight in the open, to fight fairly. In this case, two wrongs really did make it right.

Didn't they?

"I want Lucius Malfoy to stop threatening Sirius and Remus. I want Bellatrix to not ever go after Peter again. And I want Vanessa to be safe."

"And let me guess," Mrs. Lestrange said, her tone dripping with condescension, "if they don't agree to your terms, you will make this public knowledge?" And her fingers curled tightly around the parchment, nearly ripping it.

"I will," James answered, feeling smug. "That's the problem with putting so much emphasis on your family's reputation – the higher you think of yourselves, the further you have to fall. Do you really want people to know about the things you've done? And do you think the Malfoys will want that, knowing that if your reputation falls, it will likely cost them as well? They are your close allies, after all."

Mrs. Lestrange laughed again, but this time there was no amusement in it. It was a harder sound, and it carried an edge. "Do you really think that you – a mere _child_ – can blackmail me?" she asked, all civility and politeness gone from her voice. "You are a _Gryffindor_," and she spat out the final word with derision.

"I am," James agreed.

"And let me guess," Mrs. Lestrange continued, "you think you can use blackmail to make this a _fair fight_." She gave James an appraising look. "You haven't demanded that Abraxas and Lysander withdraw their legislation, and you haven't demanded that the _Daily Prophet's_ accusations against your family stop. And from that, I can assume that you either have no idea how to blackmail someone, or you don't actually want to be doing this, and are trying to minimize what you are doing."

James said nothing.

"Let me tell you how blackmail works, Mr. Potter," she continued. "You do not ask for one simple thing. You do not try to make everything fair. Blackmail is not about leveling the playing field; it is about demolishing the other team before they even have a chance to enter the game."

"I have no interest in doing that," James answered. "I'm a Gryffindor, and I want to fight like one."

"And yet you are fighting like a Slytherin, and doing a very poor job of it," came the reply. Mrs. Lestrange stood up and cast the parchment into the fireplace where it immediately burst into flames. "You have something on me, and I congratulate you for obtaining it. But do not for a second believe that your family does not have its own fair share of secrets. If you start down this road, I assure you that we will find those secrets, and we will use them. And then you will see how the game is really played." A pause, then, "You cannot win this, Mr. Potter."

"We'll see," James answered, rising to his feet as well.

Mrs. Lestrange smiled coldly. "Yes," she murmured in agreement, "we will."


	27. I Meant As Is part two

Chapter Twenty-Seven: I Meant As Is (part two)

The end was anticlimactic.

Lily wasn't really sure what she had expected. Something more than this, more than merely bottling up her potion, writing a few paragraphs about her theory and technique, and then handing it over to Healer Lanwick, who accepted it with a stern frown.

But this was it – the end. The program was over.

The sun had set by the time she left the building and made her way along the sidewalk in the direction of her flat. The faint light from the streetlamps cast flickering shadows all around her. She shivered slightly, and pulled her arms tightly around herself, unable to explain why she was suddenly so cold.

She picked up her pace.

She wasn't sure what she would do the next day. Tomorrow was a Saturday – she could go visit her parents. But they were probably busy with the details of Petunia's wedding, and she would just be in the way. She hated that feeling, that knowledge… hated knowing that she was slowly becoming a permanent outsider in her own family. But it seemed as though there was little she could do about it. No matter how proud her parents were of her accomplishments, they were still Muggles and she was still a witch and they didn't belong in her world.

And Petunia was making sure that Lily no longer belonged in theirs.

The wind rustled through the bare tree branches and she glanced up towards the night sky. It wasn't quite a full moon.

It was strange, standing there on the sidewalk, gazing upwards. Everything had changed over the past few months, and her life was no longer anything like what she had expected it would be when she had first started the potions program. And yet, she still couldn't pinpoint exactly _when_ it had all changed. It was simply different now.

She let out a breath. Change was inevitable, but still…

It wasn't that she was nostalgic for Hogwarts or her life before magic, though she had to admit that everything seemed simpler back then. And it wasn't as though she was afraid of change itself, though it was never something that she fully embraced.

No… her reluctance now was something different. Some sixth sense, some instinct or intuition… _something_.

Something reminding her that not all change was good.

The air grew colder, and she began to walk once more.

* * *

><p>James was waiting for her when she arrived home. He was sitting in her flat, lounging carelessly on the sofa and laughing with Mary, and looking for all the world as though he truly belonged right there.<p>

And Lily found that she didn't mind.

"Lils," Mary said, jumping to her feet as Lily entered the flat. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright, and her smile was just a bit too broad, and it only took Lily a split second to figure out what had happened.

Placing her hands on her hips, she spun to face James and said in a tone of mock disapproval, "Did you get Mary _drunk_, Potter?"

James rose to his feet as well, swiping a bottle of Butterbeer from the table and holding it out to Lily. "It's your last day in the program," he said, "and I came by to celebrate this with you. It's not my fault Mary decided to start drinking a bit early."

Lily frowned as she accepted the bottle from James. "What did you give her? Because she has obviously had more than just Butterbeer."

"Oh, James brought Firewhiskey as well," Mary supplied helpfully. "It's in the kitchen. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you," Lily declined. She looked down at her Butterbeer and sighed, feeling a burn of tears in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, forcing them back, and hoped that no one had noticed.

This wasn't something she wanted to celebrate. Although she still had her internship with Belby to look forward to, the end of the program didn't feel like an accomplishment. She'd stood up for what she believed in, and it had cost her. She'd never had to pay such a price for her opinions – except when she'd lost Severus' friendship. And now it had become crystal clear that this type of loss might become a constant in her life.

But Mary and James didn't seem to notice her melancholy.

"So… how did it feel?" Mary asked, leaning forward eagerly. "To finally turn in your potion, to be done?"

"Anticlimactic," Lily answered truthfully. She took a sip of the Butterbear and gave a half-shrug. "And besides, it isn't really over. I'll still be working on the Wolfsbane potion for a while. At least another month." She crossed the flat and sat down on the sofa. "And I'll still have to prove myself."

James resumed his seat next to her, and said softly, "But it will be different. Belby is going to be judging you solely on your abilities and passion."

"I know," Lily agreed. She didn't say anything else, unwilling to spoil the good mood in the room with her somber thoughts. But she couldn't shake the feeling that _something_ was coming for her – for all of them.

Mary glanced between James and Lily, and then gave Lily a wink and said, "I am going to go… be somewhere else." And she slipped quickly from the room.

"She's very subtle," James said wryly.

Lily bit back a smile. It was odd, she reflected, how much things had changed. Once upon a time, Mary's obvious desire to give James and Lily some _privacy_ would have bothered the redhead. But Lily didn't mind it now. The idea of sitting spending time alone with James wasn't entirely comfortable, but it didn't enrage her either.

After all, she'd spent plenty of time alone with him before, working on the potion.

That thought brought a question to her mind, and she said tentatively, "I haven't seen you in a while."

James sighed, his expression clouding over. "I think I might have done something stupid," he admitted.

"Oh, you mean more stupid than usual?" Lily asked teasingly, one eyebrow raised.

James rolled his eyes at her, then said flatly, "Yes." And proceeded to tell her about his conversation with Mrs. Lestrange.

Lily felt a chill run the length of her spine as James concluded the story. The feeling of unease was settling even more heavily onto her chest, and she couldn't stop the fear that came with it.

James closed his eyes for a moment, and Lily took the opportunity to study him closely. He was upset, and angry. But there was another emotion etched into the lines of his face, and it took her a moment to recognize it for what it was.

Shame.

She started. She had never expected to see that feeling in _James Potter's_ face.

But she knew why he was feeling it, and before she could really think over the consequences of pursuing the topic, she heard herself ask, "Why did you do it?"

James opened his eyes and looked at her, and didn't even pretend to misunderstand.

"Because of Vanessa," he answered honestly. He paused for a moment, a contemplative look crossing his features as he tried to gather his thoughts, then pushed on, "I… I meant what I said before, that night I stopped by to… argue… with you. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be this person. But Vanessa… when we broke up, she told me that I was a hypocrite because I had no qualms about asking her to risk her safety for me, but I wasn't willing to do the same to you."

"You didn't ask her to do this," Lily countered.

James shrugged. "Maybe not, but I'm the one who got her involved in the first place. I'm the one who asked her to help me write that article for the _Daily Prophet_, and if I hadn't done that, Lestrange would never have even noticed her. He wouldn't have thought to approach her and…" He trailed off, his voice thick with guilt.

"I'm sorry," Lily murmured. "When I… when I heard what had happened to Vanessa… I thought about visiting you, but I wasn't sure…" She trailed off as well, and didn't finish the thought.

She didn't know how to put it all into words. She hadn't been sure that he would want to see her, given that she was partially responsible for his break up with Vanessa. She also hadn't been ready to see him herself. Her emotions had been too raw, too conflicted.

They were raw now, too, but with James sitting here, looking at her with that lost and bewildered expression, she found herself reaching out to squeeze his hand.

"What happened to her wasn't your fault," she said.

James shook his head, refusing to accept her statement. "It was," he said finally, hoarsely. "It wasn't entirely my fault, of course." His voice grew cold and bitter as he added, "I can't take _all_ the credit for it. But I do get some of it."

Lily didn't answer. She couldn't counter what he said – his actions had consequences. All their actions had consequences, and wasn't that a horrible lesson to learn?

"So when I saw that she had been attacked, when I saw that she was in the hospital… I was just so _angry_, and I felt so much _guilt_, and I… I don't know. I can't really explain why I thought it would be a good idea to resort to blackmail. I just… did it." He withdrew his hand from Lily's grip and ran it through his own hair. "It was wrong."

"You were trying to protect your friends," Lily said.

"The wrong thing for the right reason is still the wrong thing." He hesitated for a moment, then said in a tired voice, "And isn't it ironic that _I _am the one telling _you_ that?"

Lily laughed hollowly. How many times at Hogwarts had she yelled at him that he couldn't justify hexing Slytherins just because they believed in pureblood supremacy?

"I don't know what made me think I could ever beat a Lestrange at this," James continued wearily. "I have no idea how she is going to retaliate, but I know it is going to be… _unpleasant_. This thing that I started…"

"No," Lily cut in suddenly, firmly. "No, you're wrong about that."

James looked at her in surprise, taken aback by the volume and strength of her voice, and even she was a little surprised at how strongly she felt about this.

"Evans…" James began, but she cut him off quickly.

"Potter, you're right that blackmailing Lestrange was the wrong thing to do. And you're right that your actions had consequences, and some of what happened to Vanessa Lovely _might_ be your fault. And you are right that something is coming, something bad. A fight of some sort, and it isn't going to be easy on any of us."

She paused, leaning forward and taking both his hands in her own once more. This was important. This was something he had to understand, something she had to _make_ him understand.

"But you did _not_ start this." James looked like he wanted to protest, and she pushed on quickly, "Lysander Lestrange's legislation started this. Lucius Malfoy's threats against Remus started this. Black being kicked out of his family started this. Or, I suppose, it really started long before either of us began at Hogwarts. They were always going to come for you. For _us_. I'm a Mudblood, Potter, and you are a blood traitor, and they were _always_ coming for us."

* * *

><p>Running into Caradoc in Diagon Alley might not have been the most uncomfortable and awkward thing to ever happen to Lily, but it was certainly at the top of the list. Particularly when she realized he was on a date.<p>

"Lily," Caradoc said. "I… uh…" He glanced at the girl next to him, the pretty brunette who had her fingers woven through his, and cleared his throat. "Do you remember Madge Larson?"

"Oh… sure…of course," Lily said. "From Hogwarts, right?"

The minute the words were out of her mouth, Lily wished she could take them back. It was a stupid thing to say. The girl was British and looked to be about their age – _of course_ she'd gone to Hogwarts. And Lily didn't recognize her at all.

Madge smiled, noting Lily's discomfort. "I was a year ahead of you and Caradoc," she said politely. "In Ravenclaw."

"Ah. Right," Lily said, still drawing a blank. She wondered vaguely if Madge had known who _she_ was at Hogwarts, or only knew her now because Caradoc had just introduced them. "I don't think we ever spoke to each other."

"No," Madge agreed, "we didn't. But it is nice to finally meet you. Caradoc told me a little about you. You want to be a potioneer, right? You were accepted into some prestigious program, I believe."

Lily winced inwardly. This was hardly something she wanted to talk about, but there really didn't appear to be a graceful way to get out of it.

"Yes," she said. "I worked on the Wolfsbane potion."

"Oh, I thought that was just a myth," Madge said in some surprise.

"It's not," Lily answered, a bit more flatly than she had intended. She doubted Caradoc would date anyone who was completely prejudiced against werewolves, but she still vividly remembered Emma's hesitant reaction when Lily had chosen that potion, and couldn't help but wonder if Madge carried the same bias.

Madge opened her mouth to say something, and Lily decided immediately that she had no desire to continue any conversation about potions, so she switched the topic quickly.

"And what do you do?"

"Oh, I work at the Ministry," Madge replied easily enough. "I'm a secretary there. Nothing too exciting."

"That sounds nice," Lily lied. It sounded incredibly boring, but she wasn't about to say that.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Caradoc said, "Well, it was nice to see you, Lily."

Lily gave an internal sigh of relief and jumped at the opportunity to escape. "You, too," she said with a slightly forced smile. "And it was nice to meet you, Madge. I'll just let you two get back to your… uh… date."

Caradoc nodded, and Madge murmured a goodbye, and the two of them moved past Lily. She turned to watch them go, pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes and letting her gaze fall once more to their interlocked fingers. She watched with a bittersweet pang as Madge leaned in towards Caradoc and he turned to smile down at her. She could see the closeness between them, the intimacy, and when Madge lifted her gaze to Caradoc's face, her eyes shone with a bright intensity, like he was the only person in the entire world she wanted to see.

Lily let out a long breath. Had she ever looked at Caradoc like that?

The answer to that question was all too obvious, and she turned away from the happy couple, unable to watch them any more.

* * *

><p>The weekend passed uneventfully for James. Sirius and Remus had clearly gotten into another argument, and although he had no idea what it was about, he was somehow stuck in the middle of it. Both of his friends wanted him to take their side, and yet neither would give him a straight answer as to why they were arguing in the first place.<p>

Beyond that, he had other concerns to fill his time. He wanted to send Vanessa some flowers as a get-well gift, but hadn't been able to compose the note. He'd put quill to paper several times, and had so far only been able to come up with two words that he didn't immediately cross out.

Monday came and went as well, and then Lily showed up on his doorstep.

She looked tired. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was falling out of a loose ponytail and blowing in the wind. But she was smiling.

"Evans," he said. "How was your first day with Potioneer Belby?"

"Long," Lily said truthfully. "And brutal. I think my head might explode. I have no idea how I am going to survive a full month of this. And if he takes me as an apprentice for even longer..."

James gave her a scrutinizing look, and then said slowly, "But you are loving it."

Lily grinned. "Every single second."

"I'm glad," James replied.

"I hope you don't mind that I stopped by," Lily continued. "I know it's late – already nine o'clock. I just wanted to say… thank you. For… well… this."

James started, surprised by the sentiment. He knew that she was grateful, though she'd had some trouble getting over her prejudice against anything that resembled charity, but he hadn't expected her to actually say it.

"You're welcome," he replied. "Do you want to come in? I'm not really doing anything. Just… attempting to write a note to Vanessa." And he gestured behind him towards the vase of crimson flowers that stood on the side table in the entrance hall, and to the several wads of crumpled parchment next to the vase.

"I take it you are having trouble with that?" Lily asked.

James sighed. "It's hard. I don't even know what I want to say. I've only managed to come up with two words that don't sound horribly trite or vengeful when I write them."

"If you can only settle on two words, then maybe those are the only two worth saying," Lily pointed out. She paused for a moment, frowning at him, and then asked, "Vengeful?"

"My first iteration might have blamed her for tempting me with the information from Lestrange…" James muttered, blushing slightly. He'd actually burnt that note, so mortified by it that he couldn't stand to have it in the waste bin.

"Do you?" Lily asked, and at his blank stare, she elaborated, "Do you blame her?"

"No," James answered. "Not really. I just wish she hadn't… I wish she had listened to me. Listened to what I wanted."

"People who love you are always going to try to do what they think is best for you, whether you agree with it or not," Lily murmured knowingly. She stepped around him and walked to the vase, then touched one of the flowers carefully, running a finger over the petal. "These are beautiful."

"Remus helped me pick them out," James admitted. "I'm not really good with this sort of thing."

"I never would have guessed," Lily deadpanned.

"I'll have you know I am much better than Sirius," James defended himself. "At least I know that girls actually like flowers." He didn't go on to say that he'd finally settled on these flowers because the red reminded him of passion and fire. Admitting to that seemed just a little bit too… girly.

"Now _that_ I can believe," Lily remarked. She turned back to him. "I do appreciate what you did for me," she said. "With Belby and… all those other times. I might not have always agreed on your methods, but I know you were just trying to help."

"I was," James agreed. "I want to. Always." Lily gave him an oddly knowing look, and he added, "It means a lot… _to Remus_… having you work on this potion."

"Yes," Lily agreed. "And I am sure it means a lot… _to Remus_… that you are helping me."

The subtext of that sentence was blatantly clear, and James felt his heart beat just a little bit faster.

"I'll let you get back to your letter writing," Lily said, nodding her head towards the flowers. She turned towards the still partially open door, and stepped out into the night.

"Evans," James said suddenly. Lily paused and looked back at him, an eyebrow raised, and he said quickly, "I am sure you have a lot of wizards who want to go out with you . And I'm not… everything with Vanessa is still… fresh, and I'm not really ready for anything new. But if you're not dating anyone in the future, maybe in a month or two… and if I were to ask you out on a date… would you say yes?"

Surprise flashed through Lily's eyes, and she hesitated, and James' felt his hopes plummet just a little bit. What had he expected? He knew she wanted to be _friends_ with him, but she'd spent years turning him down at Hogwarts and it was foolish to hope that her feelings would change _that_ much.

But then she smiled faintly and answered, "You know what, Potter? I think I just might."

* * *

><p>After Lily had left, James walked over to the flowers sitting in the vase on the table and picked up a piece of parchment and his quill. He stared at them for a long moment, and the dark red suddenly reminded him not so much of fire or passion but instead, morbidly, of blood.<p>

He still wasn't sure if he was angry at Vanessa. If she'd never gotten that information for him, he wouldn't have been able to use it against the Lestranges, and he wouldn't currently be feeling so unclean. It was _his_ decision to use it, not hers, and he should have stopped himself, should have known better. But if she had just respected his wishes enough not to tempt him with it…

Then again, that information had bought him time. Maybe not much, but a little. It was protecting his friends, at least for now, and Lily had been right about one thing; he hadn't started this. The Lestranges would have come after him no matter what. So maybe a few moments of safety and security was all he could really hope for, and Vanessa had been the one to help him get it.

And, anyway, he couldn't blame her for his own actions, no matter how much of a role she had played in them. He could only take responsibility for what _he_ had done.

Lily had been right about something else as well.

_If you can only settle on two words, then maybe those are the only two worth saying._

He pressed his quill to the parchment, and wrote.

_I'm sorry._


	28. Epilogue: 'Cause When I Look Around

A/N: There are only two more chapters in the story, and they are really more epilogues than actual chapters. So we are now approaching the end…

Epilogue (part one): 'Cause When I Look Around

"No, no, _no_! Evans, what are you doing?"

"Uh… adding foxglove… sir?"

"Yes, but _why_?"

Lily glanced down at her notes and then back up at Belby. He was standing over her, his protruding eyes fixed on her features with a look of incredulity and disappointment. Clearly, he was opposed to her experiment, but she wasn't entirely sure why. Certainly foxglove was an unusual addition to the potion, but there was nothing in her notes to suggest that it deserved the outburst she was getting from the potioneer.

She looked back up at him and suggested diffidently, "Because it could counterbalance the dittany?"

"Of course it would counterbalance the dittany," Belby muttered, shaking his head. "It's poisonous! Are you _trying_ to kill the werewolves? Because there are far easier ways to do that than tricking them into drinking a deadly potion."

"There is enough dittany in the potion that the foxglove won't kill the drinker," Lily protested.

At least, she thought there was. It was true that she wasn't entirely sure about that point, but the theory seemed strong enough.

Belby snorted. "Hmph. You would not be so cavalier if you knew what these pour souls go through every month."

Lily frowned and said sharply, "I am doing this for a friend, and I would _never_ be cavalier with his life."

Belby stared at her for a moment, then asked in complete surprise, "Is Potter a werewolf?"

"Potter? No," Lily answered, feeling nonplussed. "Why would you assume I was talking about Potter?"

Belby blinked. "It has been my experience that when a young witch speaks so… _emphatically_… about not wanting to harm a wizard, she is usually speaking of the wizard she is dating."

Now it was Lily's turn to blink it complete bafflement. "Potter and I aren't dating," she said.

"Well, why in Merlin's name not?" Belby demanded.

"Uh…"

"Well, never mind that," Belby said, waiving his hand and carelessly disregarding whatever Lily was about to say. "I'm sure you have a good reason for it. But that is still no need to add a poison to the potion. No, no, no… you must try something else. _Honestly_!"

He strode over to the nearest bookshelf and browsed the titles for a moment. The room itself was not large, and the bookshelves that lined every wall gave it an almost claustrophobic feeling. Lily didn't mind it… much. The books were on potion theory and were quite rare, obscure, and fascinating.

Belby pulled out a book and spun around, almost knocking over a small table in the center of the room that held several jars of potions ingredients. He sidestepped the table at the last moment and dropped the book on Lily's workbench next to her cauldron.

"You only have a few more days until the end of the month, Miss Evans, and you have yet to impress me." And he turned and marched from the room.

Lily sighed and readjusted her ponytail. Some of her hair had escaped the hairband and was now sticking to the back of her neck, slick with sweat. Her clothes were covered in dust from the room – she was fairly certain Belby had never dusted in his entire life – and her eyes were watering from the fumes.

It had been nearly four weeks of this. Sometimes she made great strides on the potion, and sometimes she made idiotic mistakes, and Belby always responded in exactly the same way.

_You have yet to impress me._

She knew the man was brilliant and had very high expectations, but surely he understood that not everyone in the world was like him?

She turned her attention to the book he had given her and flipped it open to the table of contents. The print was miniscule, and she had to squint to make out the words. She had no idea what he wanted her to find in here, but he'd never once handed her a book without having some reason for it, so she rubbed her tired eyes and bent her head over the tiny print.

The parchment was worn and fragile under her fingers. She glanced down the list of chapter titles and found nothing that looked at all helpful.

She sighed and slumped back into her chair, a dull pounding headache appearing behind her eyes.

The room would have been greatly improved by some windows and natural light. And perhaps better ventilation. If she continued working for Belby beyond the month, she knew she would need to work up the courage to ask him for a better workspace.

Of course, he'd been dismissive enough of her work that it seemed unlikely she would be here much longer.

She chewed her lip and stared at the book, trying to think. He'd given it to her after expressing displeasure in her addition of foxglove to the potion, so whatever she was looking for in the book was probably about that.

She leaned over the table of contents again, running her finger down the list of chapter titles.

There was nothing on foxglove or poisons.

She groaned.

And then caught sight of the title of the eleventh chapter.

_Fundamental Theory of Blood_

It wasn't in any way relevant to her potion, but the title was interesting nonetheless, and she found herself flipping to that section.

_As with all potion ingredients, the use of blood requires a proper explanation of the properties inherent in the substance. Blood is integral to life – without it, we are nothing. Blood from different species contains different characteristics and has different uses and different consequences. A well-known example of this is unicorn blood which, although it will sustain life, causes the drinker to enter a cursed state. Further, although the properties of blood taken from related species may be similar, there is usually enough difference between the types of blood that substitution is not recommended. For instance, using mule blood instead of horse blood…_

Lily blinked at the paragraph. She had never once heard of a potion that required either type of blood. But, she reasoned, the book was old, and perhaps these were common potions ingredients at the time the giant tome was written.

She rolled her shoulders slowly, only then noticing just how tense the muscles were. She needed a break. She needed to stretch, needed to walk around, needed to work in a room where it did not feel as though the walls were closing in on her.

But that was not an option.

She scanned the next few paragraphs, but the details about blood were dry and uninteresting. It wasn't until she reached the fifth paragraph of the chapter that her interest was peaked again, and she found herself quickly leaning over the book and squinting at the words once more.

_However, it is the within-species variation on blood that is the topic of this chapter. Like all other potion ingredients, blood can be easily contaminated by outside substances through improper collection and storage. Further, qualities of the specific animal from which the blood was drawn can effect the efficacy of the potion. Blood should always be harvested from a healthy animal instead of a sick one and, when possible, the animal should be young enough that its blood still contains the vitality of youth. Some potioneers have suggested that animals that commonly contribute blood to potions – the dragon, the Re'em, the chimera – should be domesticated so that their blood can be more easily obtained. However, domestication of wild animals will change the nature of the animal, and this can have profound effects of the blood. It is thus not recommended that any potioneer take such actions._

_Further, some animal breeders have recommended the creation of hybrids between magical animals and their non-magical counterparts. A common example of this is the hybrid of the magical and non-magical salamander. Magical creatures tend to be harder to capture or to farm. Even the most domestic of animals, the kneazle, is far harder to take care of than the average house cat. Thus breeding a hybrid could theoretically create a more docile animal that still retains its magical characteristics. While there is no reason not to breed such animals for many purposes, including use as pets or labor, they should not be used for potions ingredients. The reason for this is quite simple; mixing magical and non-magical blood dilutes the magical properties. Such blood is…_

"Evans, one more thing…"

Lily jerked her head up as the door to the room opened and Belby entered, and though she tried to school her face back into a look of curiosity, she couldn't quite rid herself of the bitterness she felt at what she had read. Belby had clearly intended to tell her something else about the potion, but he paused mid-sentence when he saw her expression and his eyes narrowed slightly.

He looked down at the book.

"That was not the chapter I intended for you to read," he said quietly.

Lily swallowed and nodded. "I… uh… it caught my attention," she said with a would-be casual shrug. Bebly was continuing to scrutinize her with his protruding eyes, and before she could think through the consequences of asking the question, she blurted out, "Is it true?"

"That mating a magical and a non-magical species would create a hybrid with diluted blood?" Belby said. "Of course."

Lily chewed her lip. "It sounds like pureblood propaganda," she protested.

Belby folded his arms over his chest. "Any time two species mate to create a third species as the offspring, the third species will necessarily have only half of the characteristics of each parent. This has been proven repeatedly in Muggle research on genetics."

"And magic is genetic?" Lily asked.

Belby shrugged. "Yes. Though it is less clear how hereditary it is, particularly in the case of Muggleborns and Squibs, and that is unlikely to be resolved any time soon. After all, such research would require knowledge of and techniques from the field of genetics and how many witches or wizards do you know who employ Muggle sciences?" Lily didn't have an answer, so he continued, "But that is hardly the point."

"What is the point?"

"The chapter discusses only the use of blood in potions, and makes no judgments about the inherent worth of the species created. It does not provide a nature versus nurture debate about magical aptitude among humans. And further, the chapter is discussing only the breeding of two separate species. Muggles and witches and wizards are _not_ separate species." Then he sighed and said, "But in case you were wondering… yes, theories such as the one presented in this chapter were used by pureblood supremacists to establish their dominance. It is a common technique, and not just among wizards. Even Muggles take sound scientific theory and twist it to create justifications of their own warped agenda."

Lily grimaced. "I see." She paused, then said, "You know a lot about Muggle research."

Belby smiled. "I have many interests," he said. "If you are interested in genetics, I would be happy to recommend some books for you to read."

"I would appreciate that," Lily answered truthfully.

"Did you read the section about foxglove?"

"Oh… uh, no. I haven't found it yet."

Belby frowned and snatched the book away from her. "Merlin, teaching you is hard work," he muttered under his breath as he began to flip through the pages. He found what he was looking for and slammed the book down in front of her, causing dust motes to fly up into the air.

She sneezed.

"Here," he said sharply, jabbing his finger at a specific paragraph. "Read that."

_The addition of dittany to the potion will counter the poison in the foxglove, and thus these two ingredients are frequently found together. It should be noted, however, that the use of aconite will decrease the efficacy of the dittany and render the potion poisonous._

"Aconite," Lily murmured. "Also known as wolfsbane."

"If you are using it as the main ingredient in your potion," Belby said sternly, "you can't also use foxglove. Unless, of course, you want to kill werewolves."

"I didn't know…"

"You should have done full research on foxglove before adding it. You should always do extensive research on any poison you plan on using in a potion."

"But my Hogwarts potions books all said that as long as you use dittany…"

"Do you always believe everything you read?" Belby interrupted, his tone derisive.

"It was a textbook," Lily murmured under her breath. "Of course I believed it." But she knew that wouldn't be a good enough argument… and Belby was right. She really should have done more research before using any kind of poison.

"Keep working," Belby said, and stormed out of the room.

She was never going to get use to his mood swings.

* * *

><p>"… and then Mrs. Longbottom tried to tell me that the dress was the wrong color, that it made me look washed out. She used the words limp marshmallow. I don't even know what that <em>means<em>."

James chuckled, but quickly stifled the laugh as both Alice and Lily glared at him.

"It's a wedding dress. It's supposed to be white," the harried soon-to-be bride moaned before burying her head in her hands. "Do you think Frank will still love me if I kill his mother?"

"Frank will love you no matter what you do," Lily said loyally.

James quirked an eyebrow. "Did you just tell her to kill her mother-in-law?" he asked with a smirk.

"Hey, don't mock her for it," Alice grumbled. "It's the best advice I've had all day." She glanced around the pub and added, "I need more alcohol."

"This wedding has brought out an interesting side of you," Lily commented dryly.

Alice glowered at her. "Just wait until you get married, Lily," she snapped. "You'll be planning murders, too."

"And I am sure they'll be good plans, too, because Merlin knows Evans has had plenty of practice," a voice announced, and Lily turned to see Sirius standing behind her with a bottle of something in his hand. Sirius winked at James. "She's been plotting your murder for seven years, Prongs."

"Well, it's a good thing I've got you to protect me, then, Padfoot," James replied.

Alice glanced between the two of them, then asked Lily, "Remind me again why we decided getting drinks with them was a good idea?"

"_We_ didn't," Lily snapped back, rolling her eyes in frustration. "You and I were supposed to have a girl's night out with Mary, but then she got sick and got it in her head to send Potter along in her place." She slanted a quick glare at Sirius and added, "And I have no idea why Potter decided to bring Black."

"Oh, I brought him along for moral support," James answered immediately. "I didn't want to be outnumbered by the fairer sex. I doubt I'd survive."

Sirius laughed, and even Alice smiled slightly. It was nice to see Alice smile, Lily reflected – the stress of the wedding planning had been hard on her friend. And though Lily wasn't entirely pleased with James and Sirius as an addition to the night out, if they managed to distract Alice from her overbearing soon-to-be mother-in-law…

Of course, Lily did know _exactly_ why Mary had chosen to send James in her place. Ever since Lily had admitted to Mary that she might possibly fancy James a little bit, Mary had been determined to push the two of them together. Lily had repeatedly told her that she and James just needed a little bit of time, but Mary seemed to think that they had used up enough time already.

Sirius slid into a seat opposite Alice and started talking to her, and James turned his attention to Lily and asked, "How did your potion brewing go today?"

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Oh, I tried to poison the werewolves this time," she said casually.

James frowned. "Uh… aren't you supposed to help them?"

Lily nodded, then said with a sigh, "Sometimes I make great progress, sometimes I don't make any… but I just can't tell what Belby thinks of my work." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "And, anyway, today I was a bit distracted by blood purity."

"What about it?" James asked curiously.

"Apparently, the quality and the purity of types of blood used in potions can make a substantial difference in the result, and this has been used in the past to justify prejudice against Muggleborns," Lily explained. Although Belby had provided her with a perfectly adequate explanation for why the passage she had read was not relevant to arguments about blood status in the wizarding world, the very fact that it was used by pureblood supremacists incensed her… and she couldn't explain _why_.

James seemed to pick up on this, because he asked, "Why does this argument bother you so much? Purebloods like the Malfoys and Lestranges and the rest of Sirius' family say horrible things all the time."

"Yes, but…" Lily trailed off with a frown. "This feels like more of a betrayal."

"Betrayal?" James questioned, bewildered. "How is it a betrayal?"

Again, Lily didn't have a ready answer.

She was saved from having to stumble through a half-hearted explanation by Alice's abrupt peal of laughter, and both she and James turned towards their friends in time to see Sirius rising slowly from an ungainly heap on the floor.

"Any particular reason you decided to lie down on the floor, Black?" Lily asked.

"It was comfortable," Sirius answered flatly.

Lily glanced at Alice, who supplied helpfully, "He fell out of his chair."

"You pushed me!" Sirius shot back.

"You insulted Frank!" Alice retorted, pulling out her wand and pointing it at him threateningly. "Next time you insult him I will hex you. Don't think I won't."

"Bit uptight, isn't she?" Sirius commented to James. "All I did was say that I didn't understand why she wanted to marry a bloke who always followed the rules, never got into trouble, and was responsible and mature. It sounds so incredibly _boring_."

"He's an Auror," Alice protested. "That's an exciting career!"

"Yeah… if you are crazy Mad Eye Moody or maybe that bloke Shacklebolt who just caught the Dark wizards in Bristol," Sirius replied. "What does Longbottom do? Paperwork? Rescue kneazles that get stuck in trees?"

James grinned into his drink.

"I'll hex you, too, Potter," Alice warned, but she was smiling.

Frank _did_ have a reputation for always following the rules. He had received top marks on his OWLS and his NEWTS, had been a prefect and Head Boy, and had been the only one from his year accepted into Auror training. He was smart, caring, loyal…

Alice was beaming just thinking about him.

Then she and Sirius started bickering again, and Lily turned to James and asked, "Is Black always like this?"

James nodded and answered with a laugh, "Pretty much. You get used to it, though." Then he said in a more sober tone, "There is more to him than meets the eye."

For a moment, Lily found that difficult to believe. Then she remembered the look on his face and his low tone of voice as he stood in her flat and accused her of not being able to get past Severus' hurtful words.

"Maybe you're right," she said.

James looked as surprised by her response as she felt at saying it, but instead of commenting on that, he said, "You were telling me why you felt betrayed by the use of potion theory in pureblood propaganda."

Lily was silent for a moment, attempting to order her thoughts. But when the words wouldn't come, she shook her head and said with no small amount of frustration, "I can't explain it."

"Just… try," James suggested quietly. "Say whatever comes to mind. Just babble on like you usually do when you get worked up about something."

"I don't babble!" Lily protested.

James raised an eyebrow in utter disbelief, and Lily huffed.

"Just say whatever you want to say," James said, "and I'll listen. You usually think better if you're thinking aloud, don't you?"

Lily opened her mouth to confirm that, and then paused, stunned to realize just how well James knew her. Not only did he recognize the fact that she did tend to ramble on when she got worked up about something – not that she would _ever_ admit that to him – but he understood that she rambled because it helped her organize her thoughts.

_And_ he seemed to get that whatever she was feeling right now was really bothering her and she needed to talk about it – even if she had no idea what to say.

More importantly, he was willing to _listen_.

"Evans?" James prompted.

Lily blinked, then said, "It's _mine_."

"Um… what?"

"Potions. Potion theory. Potion brewing. Everything about potions. It's _mine_. It's what I do, it's what I am good at. It makes sense to me. All these ideas, all these different theories and equations… everything fits together like puzzle pieces. I love it. I love everything about it, even when I am absolutely frazzled by it." Lily hesitated, slanting a quick look at James to see if he was bored, but he was staring at her intently, listening to every word, and so she pushed on,  
>"And these pureblood families… these witches and wizards who aren't potioneers and who probably didn't even take NEWT level potions let alone any more advanced courses… they're taking something that is so good and so wonderful and so… <em>mine<em>… and they're twisting it and corrupting it and using it against me."

She was dimly aware of the fact that Alice and Sirius had stopped arguing and were now listening to her as well, but she was more focused on James. For reasons she had little desire to admit to even herself, it was his opinion of this that mattered to her, his understanding and agreement she wanted.

She pressed on, "And I know it is ridiculous because… well, there are so many horrible things people say about Muggleborns that should bother me just as much, and… it's not like I even heard anyone use this argument, Belby just told me that people _had_ used it in the _past_. But… it was Potions that made me feel like I belonged at the school. In Slughorn's class, when he told me how wonderful I was at this, how I had so much aptitude for it… Hogwarts was overwhelming and… and you don't know what it is like for a Muggleborn who has never even believed in magic to suddenly find out that she is a witch and then… did you know that we're only told we're wizards and witches a few months before we go to Hogwarts? I had longer because Severus told me, but… I still didn't have that long. It's not the same thing as being a half-blood or a pureblood and growing up around magic all the time. It was… I was _scared_." She paused, and said in some confusion, "I think I've gone completely off topic."

"And you said you don't babble," James interjected with a smirk. She glared at him, and he held up his hands in a sign of surrender and continued, "You're good at potions. Is that it?"

"Yes. No. It's… more than that," Lily answered, groping for the right words. "Potions is… intuitive. It comes naturally to me. It makes sense. It's the first thing that I was that good at, the first thing that made me feel like I belonged in this world, and the idea that anyone would use it to tell me that I don't belong… it feels like a betrayal." She stopped again. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes," James said, and he reached over and squeezed her hand. "It makes perfect sense."

* * *

><p>The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and James and Sirius did a passable job at keeping Alice's mind off the wedding plans. Alice had been the first to leave, however, insisting that she needed her sleep if she was going to have any chance of facing Mrs. Longbottom the next day, and Sirius had left shortly after that.<p>

James had offered to accompany Lily home.

Somehow, though, they hadn't quite gotten around to Apparating to her flat, and were instead wandering about the streets near the pub in companionable silence. The night was cold, but after spending the entire day inside that small room inhaling the potent potion fumes, Lily found herself greatly enjoying the fresh air.

"Look," James said suddenly, pointing towards the sky, "it's Merlin."

Lily blinked and squinted up at the stars. She had learned the names of all the constellations in Astronomy, and for the most part, the wizarding world used the same names as the Muggle world. Orion, Cassiopeia, Ursula Major and Minor… There had been a few constellations unique to the wizarding world, but she didn't remember Merlin being one of them.

She glanced at James.

He was smiling at the stars as he explained, "There are so many stars that aren't part of constellations. Peter once said he thought they probably all felt left out, so Remus started making up names for them. See the cluster of stars there," he pointed up at the sky, "and the two stars that make the line there…? That's Merlin."

Lily laughed softly. "What other constellations did Remus name?"

"Morgan le Fey, Agrippa, John Lennon and Paul McCartney…"

"The Beatles?" Lily questioned, amused.

"Sirius actually named those two," James answered. "He would go on about how it was lucky to snog a girl if Lennon and McCartney were in the night sky. Told his parents that more than once…" He trailed off with a sigh, then said, "Anything to annoy his pureblood family."

They continued walking in silence.

After a few minutes, James cleared his throat and said, "You had a friend who was in the potions program with you, didn't you? Did she do well on the rankings?"

"Oh, yes," Lily said, smiling immediately. "Emma heard a few days ago. She did very well. In fact, she was awarded the fourth mark. She's moving on to the next session."

"I'm glad," James said.

"I am, too," Lily agreed.

She was glad that James had asked. Mary and Alice had both been afraid to, clearly worried that having to talk about Emma's success would upset Lily. And any reminder of her own failure did upset the redhead, of course… but she was genuinely happy for her friend and wanted to be able to share her happiness with someone.

Of course, the fact that James even _remembered_ that Lily was friends with Emma _and_ thought to ask about her…

Lily slanted a quick look at James and wondered how many more time he was going to surprise her tonight.

A puzzling thought occurred to her, then, and, knitting her brows together, she asked, "How did you know about the rankings?"

It wasn't necessarily a secret, but she hadn't told James anything about how the students' progress was reviewed. She hadn't known herself until Emma had filled her in on the process – apparently the elite students who were to be accepted into the next round were awarded ranks by the review committee and those ranks determined which potioneers and Healers they could work with during the more extended internship process.

Lily herself hadn't been awarded a rank because her potion had been dismissed as _not meeting the standards of excellence set by the committee_. Although she had known all along that this would happen, it had still been painful to read those words, and she had burned the letter soon after receiving it.

James looked away awkwardly as he said, "Sirius mentioned it to me."

It took a moment for the pieces to fall into place, and then Lily stiffened slightly and nodded. "And I assumed he learned of _that_ from his brother?"

"His mother, actually," James replied. "She sent him a Howler."

That brought Lily up short. "Why? He didn't do anything."

"I think that was the point," James explained. "She wanted to remind him that he hasn't done anything with his life, couldn't even make a respectable match, whereas his brother has at least partnered himself with someone who… well…"

Lily grimaced. Emma had given her the full list of rankings, and although Lily wanted to believe that she was the type of person who did not wish ill on others, she could not deny the incredible amount of bitterness she had felt reading through those names.

The first mark, the highest ranking, had gone to Eliza Greengrass.

What angered Lily most about it was not so much that Eliza had been awarded that spot, but that, if she was judging solely based on aptitude and accomplishments, Eliza probably _deserved_ it. The blonde pureblood's cruel and malicious personality did not detract from her natural gift for brewing healing potions, and her life of wealth and prestige had not inhibited her work ethic. She _was_ good at this.

And Lily knew it was spiteful to wish otherwise, but she just couldn't help it. She had wanted Eliza to fail.

James placed his hand on her arm and said, "We should Apparate back to your flat. The clouds are drifting in, and I think it's going to start raining."

"Good idea," Lily agreed.

Then they were both turning on the spot and air was pressing against her on all sides, as though the world was caving in. It only lasted a moment, and then she was standing on the street in front of her flat, James still holding her arm.

A light rain started to fall.

"I want to kiss you now," James said.

It was so completely unexpected that Lily just gaped at him.

"So if you don't want me to do that, you should say so," James added.

Lily continued gaping.

James stepped close to her and pressed his lips against hers. And then they were kissing, and his hands were resting on her hips, and her own hands moved upwards and tangled themselves into his hair. And then her back was pressed against the side of the building, and raindrops were soaking into her clothes, and her eyes slid shut of their own accord…

James pulled back a moment later. "You're very good at that," he said breathlessly.

"You are, too," Lily murmured, feeling ridiculous, and entirely unable to stop the grin from spreading across her features.

James grinned, too. "Do you want to go on a date?"

Lily giggled. "I think we just did," she replied.

"Huh?"

"We went out to a pub, you paid for the drinks, accompanied me home, and kissed me goodnight. That's a date, Potter."

"Oh. Well, then…" James suddenly laughed. "I just went on a date with Evans!" he exclaimed, looking around as though he wanted there to be someone else present for him to tell this to, some audience who could congratulate him for _finally_ getting the girl he'd wanted for years.

"And the world didn't end," Lily murmured. "Who would have thought?"

"So… do you want to go on a second date, Evans?" James asked.

"Yes, I would like that very much," Lily said. "But… if we're dating now… I think perhaps we should start calling each other by our first names."

"Right you are… Lily," James agreed. "Blimey, that sounds weird."

"Weird?" Lily demanded, eyebrows raising towards her hairline.

"Not weird," James backtracked quickly. "Just… different. But different in a good way. I like different." He gave her a boyish smile. "I will plan us a second date, Lily. How about Saturday, Lily? Does that work for you, Lily?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I like the way it sounds. Lily."

"I'm glad you like my name… James," Lily answered. "And Saturday will work perfectly for me."

James leaned in and gave her another quick kiss. "Until Saturday, then," he said. "Goodnight, Lily."

"Goodnight, James."

* * *

><p>AN: Unabashed plug for another story of mine... I recently (as in a few weeks ago) posted a Marauder Era Sirius-centered one-shot called _Where You End and I Begin_ in case anyone is interested.


	29. Epilogue: I Think This Is Good Enough

A/N: Last chapter!

Epilogue (part two): I Think This Is Good Enough

James nearly choked on his tea as he stared at the headlines on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. He coughed repeatedly as the bitter liquid stuck in his throat and his eyes started watering.

Sirius glanced up from his own breakfast and said, "Serves you right for drinking tea."

James rolled his eyes and shoved the newspaper at Sirius. "Read this," he snarled.

Sirius took the newspaper and started reading.

James rubbed his eyes and glanced around the kitchen. Sirius had become an almost permanent fixture at the Potter home since Remus had gone on his extended holiday. It felt like they were fifteen again, and Sirius had run away from home, but had yet to inherit money from his uncle.

Sirius finished reading the newspaper and set it down on the table. Although his eyes had narrowed slightly and a frown drew his brows together, he gave no other reaction.

"Well?" James prompted.

Sirius shrugged. "What did you expect? Your article about the contributions of Muggleborns to society might have delayed Abraxas Malfoy's legislation, but you couldn't stop it. With Lysander Lestrange and Mrs. Morrison working on it… they had the support."

"I can't believe they bought it. All this rubbish… why can't anyone else see that it is hogwash?" James growled, glancing down at the headline once more.

_Newly Enacted Protection of Magical Heritage Act to Protect Wizarding World Culture._

"I'm sure some people do," Sirius answered. "The article does say that your father and the McKinnons both came out strongly against the legislation, and the Prewitts, Weasleys, and Bones have all also…"

"But just the fact that it was passed at all," James said irritably. He shook his head, then gave Sirius a scrutinizing look. "Why aren't you more upset about this? I expected you to be charging out of the house to confront the Malfoys yourself."

Sirius smiled wryly. "Well, I did get satisfaction from punching Avery in the face," he admitted. "And I am sure I would feel the same if it had been Abraxas Malfoy…" He trailed off with a thoughtful look and added, "Actually, it might even be more amusing… totally worth it just to see the look on my dear mother's face…"

"Padfoot?" James interrupted Sirius' musings.

Sirius sighed. "But it's not enough anymore. A fleeting moment of satisfaction? We have to do more." A pause, then, "Remus _left_."

"He went on holiday," James answered. Sirius opened his mouth to protest, and James continued quickly, "I know he went on holiday _because_ of all of this. I know he's running. But… he will be back. Maybe all he needs is a little bit of time away from everything to… to start thinking more clearly."

Sirius raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You really think he's going to come back on his own?"

James smiled grimly. "If he doesn't, we'll drag him back." Sirius still didn't look convinced, so James said, "It is different for him, Padfoot. Harder. He _is_ a werewolf and he can't change that. You and I have less to risk – there are people who will support us. And some of them are very powerful purebloods. But for Remus… even half-bloods and Muggleborns can be prejudiced against werewolves. He has a lot more to lose."

"So because it is harder for him he should run away?" Sirius drawled sarcastically.

"No," James replied, "but… maybe it isn't enough for us to tell him that he's worth fighting for. Maybe he needs to figure it out himself. And maybe… that just takes time and a little space." He looked down at the newspaper again. "This is the real world, Sirius, not Hogwarts. Things are more complicated here."

"Don't I know it," Sirius grumbled. Then he gave James a nonplussed look and asked, "When did you become mature and responsible?"

"You did, too," James retorted.

"You take that back, Potter!" Sirius demanded, and chucked a piece of toast at James.

James just laughed and swatted the toast away. "You're the one who just said that punching someone in the face isn't a good long-term solution," he pointed out reasonably. "_That_ is a different attitude than you had at Hogwarts."

Sirius grimaced, but didn't argue the point.

The two continued to eat in silence for a few more minutes. James was still stewing over the article, and although the brief banter with Sirius had lightened the mood somewhat, it was hardly enough to banish the gloomy thoughts. The very fact that this Act had been enacted was an insult to everything he believed in – and now it would be even harder to fight prejudice against Muggleborns. How could he hope to accomplish anything if the very Ministry was against him?

Then he looked over at the clock on the wall and jumped to his feet.

"Merlin's beard," he cried frantically, "I have Quidditch practice in ten minutes!" And he rushed from the room.

"So much for responsible," Sirius muttered under his breath.

* * *

><p>Quidditch practice was uneventful. James thought he had flown relatively well, but Shaw had been as strict and ruthless as ever, and the final scrimmage had seemed to drag on forever. In the end, James was tired and sore, and Shaw <em>still<em> didn't think it was enough.

He scheduled another impromptu practice for the next morning.

"Bloody practices," James muttered as he stripped out of his Quidditch robes and into Muggle clothing. He enjoyed Quidditch, of course, and flying usually helped clear his head. But the constant practices were starting to turn this into a chore.

He ran a hand through his hair and surveyed the rest of his teammates. They were chatting easily with each other, exchanging quips and barbs and laughter. He could see the exhaustion in their expressions, in the lines on their faces and the way their shoulders slumped forward. But it was only a physical exhaustion, whereas his weariness seemed to be mental as well.

He pondered this as he slipped unnoticed out of the changing rooms and started to walk across the pitch.

He was a good Quidditch player. He was a great flyer, and he knew how to read people in the air, how to make fairly accurate guesses on what they were about to do based on the way they handled their broom. He understood the strategy, he practiced all the right plays and feints…

So why wasn't he enjoying this as much anymore? He had loved Quidditch at Hogwarts, and nothing had really changed since then.

Except that _everything_ had changed since then.

He glanced back at the changing rooms. A lot of students were good at Quidditch while at Hogwarts, but only a few ever made it professionally. He had always known that it would take more than talent and luck – he had to truly _want_ it.

And he _had_. This was what he had always seen himself doing when he left Hogwarts.

Had that changed? Had _he_ changed? Did he no longer want to be a Quidditch player?

His thoughts wandered to the new Act making it more difficult for Muggleborns to find positions at the Ministry, to the sight of Vanessa lying in the hospital bed at St. Mungo's, to Mr. Pettigrew's shop going up in flames, to Sewelyn Lestrange's threats. And he thought of Remus who had gone on holiday to get away from werewolf prejudice and Lily who had had her dreams of continuing on in the medicinal potion program ruined because she refused to give up on Wolfsbane.

Was it that he didn't want to be a Quidditch player _enough_, or was it that now there was something else he wanted to do _more_?

* * *

><p>He was nervous.<p>

He didn't have a reason to be nervous, he reminded himself as tried in vain to flatten his hair. He'd already gone on one date with Lily – even if neither of them had known it was a date at the time – and that had gone well. There was no reason to expect that the second date wouldn't be enjoyable, too…

Except, of course, that given the track record of his relationship with Lily, it would hardly be out of character for everything to go horribly wrong now.

He forced the thought away and gave up on his hair. Lily would just have to accept the fact that his hair looked messy and windblown – and hopefully believe that he hadn't done it on purpose. And he would have to remember to not run his hand through it during the date.

He took a deep breath. He could do this. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

Unbidden, the image of being trampled by rampaging hippogriffs came to mind.

"Now you're just being ridiculous," he muttered to himself. "You are not going to get attacked by random magical creatures."

He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked along the corridor to the door of Lily's flat. Then he curled his hand into a fist, raised his arm, and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

The door opened a moment later and Lily stood there.

She was wearing a dark green skirt and a black top and her hair was loose and messy, and, as usual, he could only think that she was stunning. She smiled at him, and looked just as nervous as he felt.

"Uh… hi," he said.

"Hi," Lily replied. She hesitated for a moment, then glanced over her shoulder at the interior of her flat and asked, "Do you want to come in or should we just… go?"

"Whatever you want," James replied, hoping that was the right answer.

"Um… alright… let's go, then," Lily said, stepping through the doorway and closing the door behind her. She looked around, then asked, "Are we walking or…?"

"Apparation," James replied, extending his arm to her. "You don't mind, right?" he checked quickly. They had Apparated to her flat before, and he knew that she could Apparate on her own, so he couldn't see why she would have any problem with it. But there were witches and wizards who hated traveling by Apparation, and he didn't want to start out the date by making Lily dizzy or nauseous.

"Of course not," Lily assured him quickly, resting her hand on his arm. "Where are we going?"

Feeling a bit of confidence returning, James said airily, "Oh, I thought we'd go flying."

Lily snatched her hand back. "Please tell me you're joking," she said, eyebrows raised.

James laughed. "Of course I'm joking, Ev… uh, Lily." He stumbled for a moment, her first name still feeling odd on his lips, but then smirked, "Do you really think I'd plan something I know you hate?"

"Well, the idea isn't _that_ farfetched," Lily shot back, lips pursed. "You used to go on in sixth year about how I'd like flying so much _more_ if I just took lessons from you."

"Oh, hey," James said, eyes lighting up at that memory, "that wasn't a bad idea, actually."

"Potter!"

"I thought you were going to call me _James_ now."

"You're still _Potter_ when you annoy me."

James sighed. "The date hasn't even started yet and we're already arguing," he remarked.

"Yeah… I don't think we're ever going to stop arguing," Lily replied, replacing her hand on his arm. "We wouldn't be us if we did." She smiled up at him. "Just promise me you'll never make me go flying and we'll be fine."

"I don't know, Lily," James said with a mock-serious look, "I'm not sure I can make that promise."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Let's just go."

James grinned and turned on the spot, Disapparating and taking Lily with him.

They reappeared in a small park. The grass-covered ground sloped gently downwards towards a gravel road, and most of the park was surrounded by tall oak trees. There was a play structure in the center of the park, complete with two swings, a slide, and a creaking seesaw.

"Where are we?" Lily asked, glancing around.

"A bit outside of York. My family used to own a summer estate near here," James explained. "We would come here when I was much younger." His family had sold the home during his third year at Hogwarts when his mother had first gotten sick. He hadn't been back to this part of England since.

Lily stepped away from James and walked over to the swing set. "There was a little park near where I grew up, too," she said. "My sister and I used to play on the swings in the summer." She turned around and gave James a wry smirk. "Of course, that was before she thought I was a freak."

James wasn't sure how to reply to that sentiment, so he cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "There is a picnic table beyond the trees just there," he pointed behind Lily, "and I brought along a picnic basket."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Where?"

With a flourish, James produced a tiny basket. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

"A shrinking spell?" Lily asked with an appraising nod. "Or did you bring miniature sandwiches?"

James laughed. "You're not the only one who is good at Charms, Lily."

Lily raised her eyebrows and said, "Well, I'm impressed. And a little surprised. I had assumed you would plan a date that was a bit more… dangerous."

"Well, my original plan was to have us break into the Ministry and dye the Minister's hair purple, but I didn't think you'd approve," James replied dryly. Lily bit back an amused grin, and James pressed on, "You're not disappointed, are you? Because if you want dangerous, I can always go back for my broom…"

"Don't you dare!" Lily interjected. She climbed onto one of the swings and said, "And no, I'm not disappointed."

James tucked the tiny picnic basket away, took a seat on the other swing, and said, "I thought maybe we could just… talk. Share stories."

"Stories?"

"Well…" James trailed off for a moment, feeling foolish. It had taken him a long time to come up with a plan for this date. He'd wanted it to be unusual enough to stand out from any other date Lily had ever been on, but short of doing something actually dangerous and illegal – which Lily would have hated – he'd been unable to come up with a good idea.

At one point he'd been so frustrated he'd even considered asking Mary for help, but he didn't trust her not to tell Lily, and he didn't want Lily to think he couldn't plan his own dates. He'd even debated asking Sirius, but quickly discarded that possibility when he realized that Sirius would probably suggest something recklessly unsafe.

Then the realization had come – he couldn't plan a date for Lily because he knew so very little about her life outside of her studies.

He started swinging as he said, "I don't know anything about your life before Hogwarts, and I know very little about your family. Or… well, Muggles in general. And you don't know much about my family or my… non-Hogwarts life. So I thought maybe we could have a picnic and just… talk." He gave Lily a worried look. "How does that sound?"

Lily grinned. "That sounds perfect," she said.

James let out a breath of relief. "Oh, by the way," he asked, "How are things going with Belby?"

Lily burst into laughter and had to clutch at the swing's chains to keep from falling off.

"Uh… alright, not the response I was expecting," James said flatly, at a loss. The last time he had spoken to Lily, she had been worried that she would not impress the esteemed potioneer enough to continue apprenticing for him, and now she was so amused by the question that she was doubled over in nearly helpless laughter?

"Everything is going quite well," Lily said after a moment.

"Uh… alright. Well, that's good."

Lily nodded. "He said something amazing yesterday."

"Oh?" James prompted, leaning towards the redhead.

Lily nodded, a faraway look in her eyes, but didn't elaborate. They swung in silence for a minute, Lily lost in her own thoughts and James watching her quietly, wondering if she was actually going to share.

Then Lily gave him a smile and said, "We had a disagreement yesterday over the use of moondew. It's a flower found mainly in Scotland and northern Ireland. I thought it should be added to the potion, he disagreed… He told me not to add it, but after he left I did as much research on it as I could and did not find anything to suggest it would harm the potion. I even looked through his notes – he has some, you know, from when he worked on the Wolfsbane potion before… And since there was no reason that I could see not to add it, I went ahead and mixed it into the potion despite his instructions not to."

"Did it help?" James asked curiously.

Lily giggled. "Oh, no. Not at all. But when Belby came back and asked why I had added it, and I showed him everything I had looked at and explained that there was nothing to suggest that its properties would be problematic in the potion, do you know what he said?"

"What?" James asked.

Lily beamed at him. "He said that I had impressed him."

"So all you had to do to impress him was blatantly not listen to his instructions?" James asked, confused.

"No, there is more to it than that, I'm sure," Lily answered. "He said something about how I was finally willing to argue with people I respected." She paused, and pushed off the ground, forcing the swing into the air, then asked, "How about you? How is Quidditch?"

"It's alright, I suppose," James replied. "I've been a bit distracted lately…"

"Because of the new Protection of Magical Heritage Act?" Lily surmised.

James nodded glumly. "I had really thought that… that I'd managed to do something. To fight this. And yet the Act was written into law anyway."

"You're not responsible for stopping all pureblood prejudice everywhere," Lily replied gently, "and I do think the article you wrote with Vanessa Lovely made a difference."

"Not enough of one," James muttered sourly.

He didn't want to dampen the date with too much conversation about this topic, but the entire situation still made him so furious. And it left him with the bitter aftertaste of guilt. Sirius had received a letter from Narcissa which, by careful reading between the lines, had indicated that, in the end, it was actually Mrs. Lestrange who had managed to get the necessary support for the Act.

This was only the beginning, James knew. It would get worse before it got better.

_If _it got better.

"Well, this is a depressing topic of conversation," Lily said finally, "and aren't we supposed to be sharing stories about ourselves and our non-school lives?"

"Yes," James agreed quickly. He slanted a look at Lily and asked, "Before you found out you had magic, did you ever think about what type of career you wanted to have?"

"You mean when I was nine or ten?" Lily asked with a grin. "Actually… yes. I wanted to be an archeologist."

"An archeologist?" James repeated in surprise.

"Hmm, yes. I liked playing in the dirt, always wanted to dig up things… or be a football player."

"A football player?"

Lily stopped swinging. "A bunch of boys at my primary school used to play football after school. I always wanted to join them, but it was boys-only. And Petunia would never kick around a football with me at home because she was worried it would get her clothes dirty. She also said it wasn't proper and ladylike…" She trailed off for a moment, then gave James a curious look and asked, "Do you even know what football is?"

"Sure," James said easily. "It's a Muggle sport where you… kick a ball… and…" He frowned. "Alright, maybe I don't know that much about it."

Lily shrugged. "It's a boys' sport," she said. She was quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and then she said with a smirk, "Anyway, I doubt you would like it. No broomsticks, only one ball…"

"Sounds boring," James agreed.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it wasn't that common for Muggle women to have careers when I was little."

That took James by surprise. "What do you mean?" Although it was more common for wizards to have a full-time career than witches, he knew plenty of women, including his own mother, who had held jobs for years.

"Well… my mother, all of her friends, all of my friends' mothers… they all stayed home with their children. Cooked and cleaned and raised the kids. My mother worked part time as a secretary once Petunia and I were old enough to go to school, but it wasn't a _career_. There weren't really female football players or female archeologists… I was odd just for thinking that."

"Oh, I am sure you were odd for a lot of other reasons, too," James said.

Lily glared at him, but he could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "What about you? Did you always want to be a Quidditch player?"

"Actually, no. When I was really little, I wanted to be Minister of Magic."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Lily deadpanned.

"And then I wanted to be a dragon-tamer."

"I thought it wasn't possible to domesticate dragons," Lily countered.

"It's not, but I was seven, so little things like _it's impossible_ didn't really stop me. Oh, and then I wanted to be an Auror."

"I don't know that you would make a good Auror, Potter," Lily said. "From what I hear from Frank, Aurors have to actually be able to listen to other people, think reasonably, and follow orders from their superiors."

"Did you just call me deaf, thick, and disorderly, Evans?" James shot back.

Lily raised one eyebrow. "Am I wrong?" she challenged teasingly.

She was wrong, of course, and they both knew it. James was perfectly capable of being a team player on the Quidditch pitch, and translating those skills to the Auror Division probably wouldn't be too challenging for him. But, James reflected, she was right that he wouldn't make a good Auror – there was far too much paperwork involved.

"What was your primary school like?" James asked.

Lily started swinging again. "It was alright. I had a few friends there…"

* * *

><p>"How was your date with Evans?" Sirius asked as he slumped onto the sofa next to James.<p>

"It was nice," James replied. "We just talked."

"Oh, talking," Sirius said suggestively. "Is _that_ what you're calling it now?"

James punched him in the shoulder. "All we did was _talk_," he protested. "You know, that thing you do with your mouth…" The words were out before he realized how they had sounded, and Sirius started laughing. James groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "Am I never going to be able to have an adult conversation with you?"

"Depends," Sirius replied, "on what else you and Evans did with your mouths."

"I hate you, Padfoot," James grumbled.

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "No, you don't."

James sighed. "Yeah." He glanced over at his best friend. "Do you think I'd be a good Auror?"

"No," Sirius replied immediately. "Far too much paperwork. You'd hate that."

James bit back a laugh. It was nice to know that, even though they had both grown quite a bit since leaving Hogwarts, he and Sirius were still so much in sync. That, at least, had not changed.

"Are you looking for a new career?" Sirius asked, giving James a shrewd look. "I thought you liked Quidditch?"

"I do," James hurried to reply, "I just… I don't know. Maybe it's time for a change."

"Time for a change? Prongs, you've been on the team for less than six months," Sirius argued pointedly. "You can't have gotten bored of it already."

James nodded slowly, then asked, "Before you started at Hogwarts, did you ever think about what you wanted to be when you grew up?"

"A musician, of course," Sirius replied immediately. "Sirius Black, the international singing sensation."

"You can't sing," James protested. Sirius opened his mouth to argue, and James added, "I mean, you _really_ can't sing. You sound like a dying cat whenever you attempt it."

"Oh, shut it," Sirius growled in mock anger, and shoved James off the sofa and onto the floor.

* * *

><p>Their third date was to the London Museum of Archeology. Lily dragged James from exhibit to exhibit, excitedly reading all the descriptions and telling him everything she had ever heard about the civilization on display.<p>

The Nott family drafted a viciously anti-werewolf piece of legislation that was almost immediately supported by the Ministry, and James couldn't help but suspect that Mrs. Lestrange had a hand in that.

Their fourth date was to the Museum of Quidditch in London. James dragged Lily from exhibit to exhibit, lecturing her on all the various details of the evolution of the game.

Rodolphus Lestrange was appointed Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and was rumored to be on the fast track to a full Head position, and James knew that Mrs. Lestrange had been involved in that.

Their fifth date was to Alice and Frank's wedding.

"I always thought it was the bride who went batty on the day of her wedding," James called through the closed door to the bathroom. "No one ever told me that the bridesmaids do, too."

"You're not helping, James!" came Lily's muffled reply.

James rolled his eyes and perched on the edge of the sofa in Lily's living room. "How much longer is it going to take you to get ready?"

"It's going to take as long as it takes!" Lily shouted back.

"Well, _obviously_," James muttered under his breath, quietly enough that Lily couldn't hear him. In a louder tone, he called, "I'm sure you look beautiful."

"I can't get my hair right! It keeps falling out of the stupid bun! _Why_ do I have this much hair? Why does it have to be so uncontrollably wavy?"

"I like your hair," James replied.

"That's not helping, James!"

"Um… alright. I hate your hair?" James offered.

"Potter!"

"Evans, come on!" James groaned. "You're being ridiculous. I am sure you look beautiful. In fact, you will be the most beautiful woman at the wedding."

"I _can't_ be the most beautiful woman!" Lily shot back frantically. "Alice has to be the most beautiful woman. It's her wedding day!"

"Fine, you'll be the second most beautiful…" James replied, feeling ridiculous. He just wasn't good at this sort of thing. All of the girls he had dated in the past had been attractive, and Lily was no exception to that. But while he was used to the absurdity of having to reassure _very_ attractive witches that they looked lovely in whatever they were wearing, he was _not_ used to having to reassure a very attractive witch that she looked the right _amount_ of beautiful, that she did not look more beautiful than someone else.

Particularly when said witch had yet to step out of the bathroom.

He glanced down at the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he had been reading to pass the time while Lily got ready for the wedding. The front page article was about the resignation of the Head of the Muggle Liason Office, and his replacement by the esteemed Gwaine Greengrass. James knew little about the old Head of the office, and even less about this new one, but he knew enough about the surname Greengrass to be worried.

What would happen to relations between the two communities if the office was run by a man who despised Muggles?

Still, the appointment had caused enough controversy within the Ministry to give James some hope. The pureblood prejudice hadn't seeped into every aspect of the Ministry, and it hadn't won over public opinion yet. It could still be fought. And it could still be beaten.

"This would be a lot easier if I didn't have red hair," Lily called from inside the bathroom. "Why did Alice have to pick peach bridesmaid dresses?"

James looked up from the newspaper. "Is there a right answer to this question?"

He heard Lily's chuckle, and then she answered, "Probably not."

"Peach is still better than pink, right? And better than yellow? Weren't those her two other choices for bridesmaid dresses?"

"Yes, and thank Merlin I managed to convince her not to do either of those. Still, there was that lovely blue one that I wanted, but she didn't like blue and…"

"And I am sure that you look stunning in peach," James interrupted, setting the newspaper aside. "And I have no doubt that your hair is fine, even if it is wavy and won't stay in the bun. You will look beautiful, but not as beautiful as Alice, _so for the love of all that is magical_, can you _please_ come out of the bathroom?"

There was a moment of complete silence in response to James' outburst, them the door to the bathroom opened and Lily stepped out hesitantly. "Well… how do I look?"

Several strands of hair had escaped from her up-do and were falling around her face in unruly waves. And the peach color of the dress, while not absolutely hideous, did clash with the red of her hair. But she was smiling tentatively, and her eyes were sparkling with excitement for the upcoming wedding, and James couldn't help but grin.

"You look lovely," he said.

Lily gave him a once-over, eyeing his dark blue dress robes with the gold lion embroidered over his heart. "You look very nice yourself," she said quietly.

"Of course," James replied. "I have to look dashing for the _Daily Prophet_ photographer."

"Wait, what?" Lily demanded. "There is going to be a photographer there?"

"It's a pureblood wedding, Lily," James answered, surprised that she didn't know. "Both families have impressive ancestry, and both families have money. There are always _Daily Prophet_ photographers at those types of weddings. Whether Frank and Alice want them there or not. Didn't you see the article after Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy got married? I think it took up two pages in the _Prophet_."

Lily wrinkled her nose.

"Don't worry," James said, "you'll look dashing in black and white, too."

"I suppose in a black and white photograph I won't clash so horribly," Lily agreed.

"You don't clash now," James lied as he extended his arm. "Shall we?"

Lily gave him a skeptical look. "I don't look perfect, either."

"No," James agreed, "but with your hair like that, and your smile… you look… you look very much like _you_."

"Good answer," Lily said with a laugh. She took his hand, and together they turned on the spot and disappeared.

The End


End file.
